


This Starts Bad And The Rest Is Debatable

by VisiblyConfused



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Other, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Profanity, Psychological Trauma, Same-Sex Marriage, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, freddy is emotionally constipated, hella gay, hes got 2 emotions, inconsistent updates, mad and sad, main character is Not Chilling(tm), no exceptions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23143564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisiblyConfused/pseuds/VisiblyConfused
Summary: She pressed the door button to demonstrate and suddenly a thick metal slab fell from the top of the frame. It slammed into the ground with a resounding crash, disturbing some of the discarded papers on the desk.You startled violently, stumbling back with a curse. You looked at her incredulously. “What was that?!”She smiled a little. “The doors here are pretty powerful.” She noticed your questioning look and continued, smile slipping off of her face. “It’s a safety precaution. Make sure you use them.”
Relationships: Freddy Fazbear/Original Character
Comments: 31
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

The glow from the squat building was bright and with the sky cloaked in night, it demanded attention from the few out at this late hour. That was mainly just you. 

You parked your car in the nearly empty parking lot and killed the engine. You were somewhat excited. _Freddy Fazbear's_. The budget _Chuck E Cheese's_ of your childhood. 

This would be the third job you’d made a grab for in the two weeks. You couldn't keep having your application declined. You were lucky that you’d come across their ad. It was in a _newspaper_ of all things. For the first time, you weren’t upset that your dad had started taking them from your neighbor’s door.

After all the rejection, acquiring this minimum wage job felt like winning the lottery. It was about time too; money was running low and at this rate, you’d be late on your rent. Dad had been living with you for a while and he didn't exactly bring much to the table. After quitting your last job due to management issues, you were on the hunt for your next paycheck.

You’d applied yesterday, and they’d hired you on the spot without even the most cursory of interviews. You’d realized they were desperate for workers, and you gladly filled the spot. It was a little suspicious, sure, but you couldn't afford to pass up this opportunity. Money was money and with your bank running so close to empty, you were going to get all that you could.

The job description was simple enough. As night security, all you had to do was check the cameras now and then to make sure that no-one broke in. 

_As if_. If this place ever had a threat of intrusions, you’d eat your shorts. Not even this town’s small population of teenagers wanted anything to do with this place. You knew you could rest assured that your job here would be uneventful. That was just as well. They’d never really told you what to do if there actually was a break-in.

When you'd shown up here earlier today to finalize everything, you were greeted by one of the employees. You never learned her name. She gave you a heap of paperwork to sign--legalities, she'd called them--and assigned you your very own security uniform. She'd then shown you to the door and told you to be back at 11:45 that night.

So here you were. You punted yourself out of your car and started for the door. As you approached, you saw movement from inside the windows. It took you a second to realize that it was the same woman who'd you met with earlier today. As you opened the door, you realized you were earlier than the time agreed on 11:30. You'd misjudged how long it would take to get here. Oops. 

The door beeped cheerfully as you stepped into the building. The woman looked up from the table she was wiping down and gave a somewhat tired smile.

"Oh! You're here early."

"Yeah sorry,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. “I didn’t realize what time it was when I left home.”

You didn’t like to admit it, but your sense of time might as well have been nonexistent. You were often varying degrees of late when it came to pretty much any occasion, and it didn't help that you had a nightmare of a memory. Recently, you’d taken to setting alarms to remind you of your various deadlines. You tried to leave yourself some extra time in case of the worst. Sometimes you overcompensated.

"Oh, it’s no biggie. Better early than late.” She tossed the towel she was working with into a bucket on the floor beside her. It already had a pile of used towels inside.

“I guess you can come with me to start up the generator." She said and picked up the bucket. She motioned for you to follow her, and started down a hallway.

You frowned. "This building runs on a generator?"

The door she stopped at was marked 'Parts and Service. Staff Only' She struggled briefly with the door handle while holding the bucket, then nudged the door open with her hip.

"Only at night. During the day we're on the grid-like everyone else."

"Why?" you asked as you followed her into the dark room. She hit the light switch with one hand and cursed as the bucket slipped from her grip. It clattered to the ground and she sighed.

The light flickered on and you flinched despite yourself. The room housed a table, a couple of shelves on the walls and most notably a variety of animatronic parts. What you assumed to be spare masks and casings for the robots occupied the available surfaces and at the end of the table sat what looked like a powered down endoskeleton. Yikes.

The masks and assorted animatronic parts were so much bigger than you remembered them being, some of them rivaling the size of your entire torso. In addition, a few of the masks still held their plastic eyes and feeling watched from several angles did not help quell your unease. 

"We use the generator at night because our higher-ups insist that it saves money. I personally don't see how, given gas prices, but I don't make the rules." the woman said as she made her way to a distinctly dingy little generator in the corner.

“Yeah,” she continued, seeing your apprehensive expression. “This room is definitely in need of a little love. I’m pretty sure most of the staff try to forget that this room even _exists_. No-one wants to be in here long enough to clean it, me included. Anyone who can enter this room without being at least a little bit creeped out should not be trusted.” she said with a laugh.

You shared her laugh nervously, eyeing the bare endoskeleton.

She kicked a couple of crumpled papers away from the small generator. "Alright, buddy. Let's see what you can do today," she said to it, grabbing a gas tank from the meager collection beside it. She pulled the cap from the fuel tank and started to fill it with the gas.

While she worked you inspected the small room a little more, taking notice of the layers of dust on practically everything, and what you assumed to be oil stains on the floor and walls. 

When she was done, she pulled the engine cord and the generator started up with a coughing whirr. Immediately the steady fluorescent lights began to flicker. It appeared that the generator wasn't very good at its job. 

The impromptu light show made the already eerie atmosphere of the room skyrocket and you were quite ready to leave. Apparently, your other staff member--you still had to figure out her name--felt the same and quickly led the way back out into the hall.

“Alright, the generator fuel will last about six hours if you conserve your energy. Conveniently, that’s how long your shift is.”

“Wait, conserve energy? I thought I would just be watching cameras. Do they really take that much power?”

“Uh, I’ll explain everything when we get to your office. It's kinda complicated.” She checked her watch. “It’s 11:45-ish. You really don’t wanna be late getting to your office.” 

_Why_ , was your first thought. You decided not to pester about it. You figured it was just a behavior standard or small rule. “I get an office?” You asked as she led you down the hallway. 

“Yes, but actually no.” She said with a smile. “It’s really the security office. There are two other guards that work shifts in rounds. You'll just be joining that rotation.” 

She stopped in front of an irregularly large doorway at the end of the hall. A grated window looked into the room the frame led into. There was no door. 

“Anyways, this is where you’ll spend most of your time.” She said, leading you into the room. ‘Room’ may have been too generous of a term. ‘Closet’ probably fit better. It was probably around the size of the one jumbo bathroom stall every public restroom held.

A large desk took up the entirety of the north wall, stacked high with various monitors and assorted trash. A matching window and doorless frame stood on the wall opposite the one you’d entered through. You were pretty sure _that_ door led out the building’s other hallway. A battered old office chair stood among the collection of crumpled papers, food wrappers, and indistinguishable debris that decorated the floor of the tiny room.

“Well, this is it!” She said brightly, “Lovely, isn’t it?” 

“Very.” You agreed, lightly kicking a discarded child’s shoe on the floor.

“Anyways, here’s the rundown. This tablet is connected to the security feed.” She reached over to the desk and produced a thin black tablet from one of the drawers. “All you have to do is check the cameras every now and then to make sure everything is in order.”

She tapped the doorframe you’d come through. “These buttons here control the doors.” Just beside the empty frame were two large buttons stacked over each other, labeled neatly as ‘Door’ and ‘Light’. There was a matching set on the other wall. 

Before you had time to question, she pressed the door button to demonstrate and suddenly a thick metal slab fell from the top of the frame. It slammed into the ground with a resounding crash, disturbing some of the discarded papers on the desk.

You startled violently, stumbling back with a curse. You looked at her incredulously. “What was that?!” 

She smiled a little. “The doors here are pretty powerful.” She noticed your questioning look and continued, smile slipping off of her face. “It’s a safety precaution. Make sure you use them.” She pressed the door button again and the metal flew back into the ceiling just as fast as it came down. You didn’t have time to process her change of tone and advice before she continued on without missing a beat.

“Now here’s the important part. The generator has six hours’ worth of fuel, right? Run through that and the entire building goes out. The power’s going to drain regardless because it’s going to the lights and whatnot through the whole building, but two things make it drain faster.” She said and counted off on her fingers. “One: Using the cameras, and Two: closing the doors. You can see the power percentage here on the tablet.”

“Wait, what kind of doors need power to be _closed_? Also, why would I even _need_ to close the doors?”

She shrugged. “I think the doors stay open to make sure people don’t get locked in or something. Not really sure.” She didn’t acknowledge your second question and moved on before you could inquire further.

She checked her watch and her eyes widened. “Well, it’s about time for me to leave.” She said, words a little more rushed than before. “Around five to midnight. I hope I see you in the morning.” 

She backed out of the room with a quick wave and turned out of your view. You looked out the door and she was already halfway down the hall. “Bye!” You called to her retreating figure. You heard her respond but you couldn’t make out her words.

You shrugged and turned back into your office. She probably had somewhere to be. You left your concern at the doorway. Something about this whole situation was off, but since you couldn’t put your finger on it you decided to worry about it later. Besides, money was money. No time for doubt. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

You carefully sat in the beaten chair and cringed as it groaned loudly in protest. The hardest part about your night may be ensuring that your chair didn’t break. You glanced at the little alarm clock on your desk and found that the display was glitched out. You checked your phone and noted that you didn’t have any reception. Neat.

You put your phone away and looked around the room a little more. There wasn’t anything noteworthy save for a pink plastic cupcake on your desk. It was gifted with a candle and large eyes that blinked slowly every few seconds. You had a brief staring contest with it before deciding that was _not_ okay and turned it around. 

You pulled the tablet from its home on the desk. You curiously looked through each camera in turn and watched their full pan, noting that the kitchen feed was audio-only. You startled as something in the drawers of your desk chimed midnight.

Your shift had began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been Cross-Posted on Quotev.
> 
> (Intentionally)
> 
> (By Me)
> 
> (Not Stolen)
> 
> (Thank God)


	2. Chapter 2

You were still sifting through the camera feeds, determined to do your job well--obvious threat or not--when you were startled once again by a shrill beeping. It took you a moment to realize that the sound was coming from a landline to your left. Warily, you picked up the phone.

The machine beeped once more, then played back a message. The recording, apparently left by a past nightguard, did not leave you in a good place. It was long and rambling but some parts left more of an effect than others. Some of your favorite quotes were:

_“Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon as property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached and the carpets have been replaced."_

_“The animatronic characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free-roaming mode at night. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?”_

And best of all:

_“If they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices--especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death.”_

The message was dragged out and a little hard to follow but the gist was clear: the pizzeria’s animatronics were going to kill you. Great. Just great. That’s what you get for blind trust. Goddamn this stupid, terrible, manipulative company. You were _so_ going to sue. 

You wanted to write it off as a joke. You really, _really_ wanted to. You couldn’t though. As implausible as this sounded, you knew a joke when you saw one. You didn’t see one here. There was a severity to his warning that couldn’t be fabricated.

__

__

It explained why everything felt so _off_ ; why your mystery guide left in such a hurry, her vague warnings, the overpowered doors.. Unfortunately, It made sense and god _damn_ it. 

You were unsure of how to quell your rising panic. You were dimly aware that you were hyperventilating as you clicked frantically through the cameras. You stopped on the stage camera and found all three of the main characters still in their places. Your hands were trembling as you pulled out your phone before remembering that there was no service. 

You threw your phone in frustration and was almost concerned at the crack you heard from it, but a broken phone meant nothing to a walking corpse. You were literally a dead man walking. Not being able to call the cops left your bag of tricks empty. You had no other options. 

You knew that there was nearly no chance of you leaving the building in one piece, if at all. You weren’t built for fear and more than that, you weren’t built for survival. Your instinct to fear was to run and you didn’t think that was an option here. Locking yourself in this office almost felt akin to a pig hiding in the oven for safety. 

This situation was so _awful_. This left you with precisely one (1) set of choices and one of them wasn’t even that viable of an option. It was a lose-lose situation and there was nothing you could do about it. You could either: 

1\. Last as long as possible in a ridiculous false hope of surviving,

Or

2\. Give up and accept your fate.

You would be torturing yourself either way _before_ the robots even got to you. You had gotten yourself in a situation that left you with no means of escaping, and you wanted nothing more than to slap past-you in the face. God _damn_ it! 

It was hard to decide which of these stupid choices was worse. The _"give up"_ one was the less viable option. While it seemed to be the most objectively logical, given that it lessens the duration of your mindless panic, it also was not something your human instincts would allow. 

On the other hand, he _"try to last"_ one wasn’t much better. You were still going to die. You didn’t have the steel that some people had when dropped into situations like this. You were probably the World’s Biggest Wuss. It generally kept you out of trouble or dangerous confrontations, but it was safely not the most helpful title right now.

In conclusion, both options still kept you trapped in this damn place, and both still ended in your death. This was a #HelplessSituation.

You looked down at the tablet and were delighted to find that Bonnie--a massive purple animatronic bunny--was no longer at the stage. You whimpered and flipped spastically through the cameras to find him in the middle of the dining room. Yeah, you couldn’t walk out there. Option one it is then.

You stood and paced a couple of laps around your chair, an anxious habit. Whimpering again, you forced yourself back into your seat. You desperately wanted to just close the doors and wait it out. You knew, of course, you couldn’t do that if you wanted to entertain your ridiculous hope of escape, but you _sure_ did want to.

You kept going back and forth between the doors, doing your best to keep both of the flickering lights provided on at all times. Unlike the door, that didn’t take too much energy and seeing if the robots were there was probably the most important thing. The halls were pretty much pitch black without the lights and you could not express _how much_ you hated that. You kept glancing at the tablet and were rewarded with premium live footage of your soon-to-be murderers roaming around the restaurant.

Chica--a dimly colored yellow chicken--eventually made her way off the stage and was apparently branching off and starting her own band in the kitchen. The camera was disabled, but judging by the clanking of pans, she was going for the drummer position. 

Bonnie, on the other hand, was getting in his step quota today. He kept bouncing from room to room which made you extremely anxious. He was _fast_. He spent quite some time in the Parts and Service room and you didn’t like to think about how not that long ago you were standing where he was now.

Freddy Fazbear--the pizzeria’s mascot bear--still hadn’t moved.

You were balancing on the edge of panic and you didn’t know how to back up. All you could think about was how you’d signed up for six hours of this endless fear and you wanted nothing more than to hide under your blankets at home. Your breath was coming far too fast and you couldn’t stop shaking. 

You were _so_ paranoid and you decreed it was rightfully so. Every time you heard a weird sound you couldn’t keep yourself from closing both doors. There were a lot of weird sounds. At some point, you heard what sounded like someone humming a song and you just about shat your pants. Nothing else happened, but opening the doors after that was one of the hardest things you had to talk yourself into doing. 

Time seemed to have completely stopped and you kept assuring yourself that it was just your distorted sense of time itself, but with your phone broken, you had no way to check. What you _did_ know was that you were losing power way too fast. Again, you had no idea how long you had spent there, but whatever that length was it was most likely disproportionate to what your power levels were at presently. You knew it was because of your overzealous door closing but you couldn’t stop yourself; having both doors closed was the only time you were able to take an actual breath.

You stole another glance at the tablet as you moved from the left door to the right, still trying to keep both lights on. You hit the button to the right and squawked, jerking back so hard that the chair fell backward, taking you with it. In the window was Chica the-giant-freaking-animatronic-chicken staring straight through the glass and into your freaking soul. You managed to scramble up and slam both of the doors shut with another terrified squeal.

The flickering light held for a few seconds leaving you to stare back, frozen. You were once again hyperventilating. You dropped to the ground under the window in hopes of getting out of her sight. You were fairly sure she couldn’t get to you in here, but you didn’t want that terrible stare on you.

Since when were the animatronics so _huge_? You remembered them being big as a child, but you always assumed that was the warped perspective of a short and frankly stupid person. Even at adult height, they towered over you. It seemed almost as if they’d _grown_ since then. No robot had the right to be 8 feet tall. 

You sat there until you began to notice and be disgusted by the filth on the floor you sat on. You decided that was probably a long enough time frame and you carefully stretched up to hit the light button, most of your body still beneath the window’s sight. The light buzzed on and there was no yellow in the portion of the window you could see so you slowly stood. The window was empty. You breathed out your relief. You lifted your hands to your head and held it for a few seconds, eyes closed, still trying to recover from the fright.

That was it. That was the end of your fear tolerance. You could practically see it waving farewell as it drifted into the vents, making its own escape from this hellscape. At least some part of you got to leave.

Wait. The vents. You turned in a circle, looking for the vent in this room. 

Under your desk, you could see a dull sliver of metal on the wall. Jackpot. Well, sort of. The metal was clearly the side of a vent, but half of it was hidden behind the drawer cabinets on either side of the middle of your desk. As outdated as the building was, the grated vent was just big enough to fit your body. So basically, the only thing preventing your escape was a large wooden desk. You could work with that.


	3. Chapter 3

You didn’t think you would actually be able to leave the building through the vents, but it was certainly a great spot to hide out in until morning. If the robots could cram themselves into that comparatively tiny vent, they deserved the rights to your life. Hopefully, they’d get stuck. 

You checked the windows again--empty, thank god. Your attempts to talk yourself into opening the doors again were solidly rejected and you eventually gave up. Besides, you didn’t want something to get in here while you were distracted with the vent. You were _getting into_ that vent.

First things first. You pulled experimentally on the desk and it didn’t budge a bit. You dug your feet in and pulled with everything you had. The desk graced you with the slightest bit of movement. You inspected it for a moment and you realized that the monitors on top were likely weighing it down.

Without a second thought, you began pulling the monitors off, dropping them carelessly to the floor. You’d be damned if you put the well-being of a few non-functional monitors over your own. The company could bill you if you got out. It wouldn’t matter after you sued them. You were _so_ going to sue them.

The loss of the monitors definitely eased the movement of the desk. It was a solid chunk of wood, but any weight that the desk had was overshadowed by the strength your sudden determination had given you. _You were getting into that vent_.

It took you a while, but you finally granted yourself enough room to get a good look at the duct in question. The grate was attached by four large screws, one in each corner of the square. Those were going to have to go. You didn’t have a screwdriver, but you could probably find something to make do.

You stood and sifted through the cameras quickly, taking inventory of the overgrown toaster ovens. Bonnie was now in the storage closet, staring at the camera amongst the dirty mops. Freddy was still on the stage, and it sounded like Chica was back in the kitchen. Coast was clear. You glanced at the power and your heart dropped: 13% 

You still didn’t know the time, but you were pretty sure that 13% wasn’t enough power to get you through the rest of the night. No-one specifically told you what happened if you ran out of power, but considering the phone call’s warning and the fact that the doors needed power to be _closed_ , you had a pretty solid guess. You still couldn’t get yourself to open the doors so you rushed to find anything that might work in the vent screws. There wasn’t much to work with.

Broken Pen Cap? Fail.

Paperclip? Fail.

Two Paperclips Winded Together? Close, but still Fail.

The poor office chair had broken during your panicked flop and you searched it for anything that might be useful. There was a twisted bit of metal sticking out from under the seat and with some effort, you managed to wrest it free.

Twisted Chair Metal? Pass.

It was not an easy process; the screws were in there pretty tight and working with a not-screwdriver did not make the task any easier. Despite this, you managed to remove one screw completely. You started on the next, but you were interrupted by the heart-dropping whirr of the building powering down. You had just enough time to turn and watch your precious, precious doors slide into the ceiling before the lights flickered out and you were blinded by the dark.

You gasped and openly panicked. You knew this was coming, but you somehow still managed to be surprised. You almost refused to believe it. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. You were going to die. That was it. Game over. This is how you were going to die. 

The room was completely and absolutely pitch black. You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. You had always hated the dark. The _only_ thing visible in this new nightmare hellscape was a soft glow amongst the discarded monitors. It was the Creepy Cupcake. Apparently, the candle at the top glowed in the dark. 

You slowly slid from under the desk and fumbled over to the light, careful not to hit or run into anything. You very nearly missed cutting your hand on a monitor when you picked up the Creepy Cupcake. The candle’s glow was comforting but overall useless. You tried to use its meager glow to see your surroundings, but the light seemed to reach no further than the plastic of the artificial flame. You were already terrified, but not being able to see magnified the feeling tenfold. You were hyperventilating again and you were pretty sure you were going to start crying soon.

You forced your frenzied mind into logic. You obviously couldn’t leave the room. As much as you would’ve loved to make a run for the front door, it was still implausible, even more so now that you couldn’t see. Launching yourself face-first into a wall was not a good plan. 

So you had to stay in the room. What next? Hiding seemed like a pretty good second. It was actually the only second unless you wanted to consider attacking. You did not want to consider attacking.

Not only was there nothing in the room that could make an effective weapon, but you were not physically capable of using a weapon even if there was one. You had the physical prowess of a soggy pancake. Not to mention the fact that your assailants were made of plastic and metal. They probably couldn’t feel pain. In conclusion: fighting was not an option.

So hiding it is. The only feasible hiding place was under the desk so that was where you were going. You tried to think of anything else you could do that would be helpful in this situation. You could probably try to cover the opening of the desk. There wasn’t much else. 

The only mobile objects around were the smashed monitors and the broken chair. The monitors were hopeless so you grabbed the tangle that your chair had become and ducked back under the desk, pulling the mess with you. It wasn’t much, but all you could do was hope. 

You huddled in the furthest back of the small crevice and prayed to every god you could think of. Your efforts were rewarded with heavy footsteps. You stifled a whimper, and then the tears that threatened to spill over. _You were going to die._

A haunting melody slowly began to fill the room and you buried your face in your knees as those tears finally made their way out. Between the gaps in your chair-shield you could see the barest flicker of light. You didn’t want to see your death coming, but you also couldn’t get yourself to look away, so you stared blindly at the opening of your hiding space, trying to hold back your crying before it became uncontrollable.

The music cut off abruptly and your efforts failed. Your crying magnified rapidly and soon you were sobbing uncontrollably. Exactly what you were trying to avoid. It seemed deafening in the frozen room. 

This was it. This was the final chapter of your life. You wouldn’t ever go home again, never see your friends or your family. You wouldn’t ever walk your dog again, or smile, or laugh, or eat your dad’s stupid meatloaf again. This was it.

The footsteps started again and this time they were close enough that you could hear the quiet clicking and whirring of mechanical parts. Your heartbeat seemed thunderous but over that noise were your gasping breaths as you sobbed into your knees. You weren’t looking anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to. All you did was whimper under your breath and pray for it to be fast.

Your heart jumped into your throat and then straight out of your body as you heard the scraping of your pathetic chair-shield being slowly dragged away.

Every nerve in your body was screaming and you would’ve joined them if you thought it would do any good. All you could hope to do now was quiet yourself and try to die with what few shreds of dignity you had left.

Some part of your brain conjured the hope that it wouldn’t see you in the dark and as ridiculous as it was, you clung to that hope like a life raft. You knew it wasn’t true. It was nowhere even close to being true. If it couldn’t see in the dark, it wouldn’t be in here with you. Even if it _was_ true, your reckless sobbing was a huge spotlight on you in the otherwise pure silence of the room.

That silence was snapped by more mechanical whirring. You weren’t looking, focused on stilling your heaving chest, but you _knew_ it was looking at you. This knowledge only increased the urgency of your panicked gasping breaths. There was another spell of nothing that was soon interrupted by more mechanical movement.

You were suddenly grabbed by your shirt and yanked out of your hiding spot with an irresistible amount of force. You screamed as it jerked you into the air and held you off the ground by the collar of your shirt. The fabric bit into your neck, choking you. You gasped for air that wouldn't come and scratched wildly at your collar, tears streaming down your cheeks. You were still completely blind and that took an already terrifying situation and launched it into a whole new realm of fear. 

You kicked and swiped desperately into the emptiness of the room. You were fully aware that any hit you managed to land would amount to exactly nothing, but that thought did very little to stop you. It was just as well because none of your pitiful attacks hit anything solid. When you finally managed a cohesive thought, you scrabbled at the hand that held you up, trying in vain to pry its fingers open. It obviously didn’t move in the slightest. 

You could feel the machine’s heavy stare. After a couple of _long_ seconds, you were dropped just as suddenly as you were lifted. You fell to the ground and scrambled backward until you hit a wall. You were panting, staring into the pitch as you fumbled around for anything that you could use as a makeshift weapon. You knew it was useless, but with nothing left, human instinct called for you to fight. 

You heard more metallic shifting and you curled in on yourself, but that metal sound, accompanied by heavy footsteps, was going in the opposite direction. Soon there was nothing to hear at all except for your hiccuping breath and racing heartbeat.

You could not tell how long you sat there, staring into the dark while every muscle in your body trembled. Eventually, your breathing evened out and you were slightly comforted by the fact that you couldn't hear anything at all. Whatever was there had left and you would be able to hear if something else approached. Nothing did. It seemed like everything had gone back to its frozen state. There were no more strange noises, no movement. 

There was no movement from you either. You shifted as little as possible, scared that if you made too much noise they’d come back. After a while, the silence began to wear on you, as did the dark. Your eyes never adjusted because there was nothing to adjust to. The only thing that your eyes were capable of processing was the soft glow of the Creepy Cupcake. You took the risk and grabbed it. It was your only companion for the ensuing hours.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite your skewed perception of time passage, you knew you had been there for hours. This part of the night definitely felt longer than the last one and you weren’t sure if that was better or not. You were still on edge, waiting for the slightest change in your environment. Somehow, you knew nothing would happen. After all, you’d already had the dreaded encounter with the animatronics. If that didn’t kill you, there probably wasn’t much else to worry about. 

Regardless of your suspicions, you still refused to move, not wanting to test whatever luck that had granted you with your life. You should’ve been dead. You knew that. You didn’t know why or how you’d been spared, and honestly, you didn't want to know. All you wanted was to go home. You were not coming back. 

As the silence wore on, you had a hard time focusing your thoughts. It was too quiet and in the pure dark, you had no sense of your surroundings. Aside from logic, you had no proof that you weren’t back under the desk. 

You felt exactly like you did when you were under there; in the pitch and silence, terrified and curled in a ball, waiting for something awful to happen. At some points, you could almost hear the grinding of machinery or the squeeze of your collar around your neck. During those times, that logic seemed to fail. You cried during those times.

You were there for _far_ too long before you heard distant footsteps and voices. You almost sent yourself into a panic before you realized that the footsteps were too light to be the animatronics. They were people. You were just able to make out a snippet of the conversation between two male voices.

_“-utdown at 2:45. There’s no way they could’ve made it past that.”_

__

__

_“Well, there was nothing in Parts and Service and the damn things are clean. I just don’t unders-”_

You stopped listening when light flooded the room, sweeping away the dark as if it had never been there. You gasped loudly and buried your face in your hands as your eyes burned. You didn’t have time to process much more before two people burst into the room. 

Everything was too bright and you felt like your eyes were being crushed, but you managed to keep them open. Two men--both in the same security uniform you wore--now stood in the room, sharing the same flabbergasted expression.

You knew you made a pitiful sight, huddled in the corner as you were. There was a second where all of you just stared at each other. They gaped at you like you were a ghost and for all you knew, you could've been. The shorter of the two--a green-eyed ginger--broke the silence.

 _"Holy shit!_ How are you alive? What happened? How’d the power go out? Wh-"

He was interrupted by the other man as he slapped him on the back of the head. "Give them a second, would you? The kid--he couldn’t have been older than 17--rubbed his head sourly, grumbling under his breath.

The other man was dark-skinned and clean-shaven, probably in his late 30's. He offered you his hand and carefully helped you to your feet. His stare was just as shocked as his companion's. "Are you ok?"

You stared down at your shaking hands. Your body felt like it had become incompatible with your brain. Everything around you felt distant, almost as if you were looking through a window. Nothing felt real. 

"Uhh..Yeah?" You asked, unsure yourself. "I-I’m probably fine."

The pair glanced at each other, both clearly out of their element. The older guy spoke hesitantly. “Uh, you wanna come to the break room or something? We can get you something to eat if you want it.” 

“Yeah, we’ve got honeybuns and, um, granola bars. You know, if that’s your thing.” The kid chimed in.

You took a deep breath and tracked your fingers through your hair. “Yeah, okay.” You shook your head to clear it. “Let’s do that.”

You shot one last glance at the Creepy Cupcake as you left. In the last hours, you’d come to a kind of understanding with each other. You put up with it’s unsettling blinking, and it put up with your ceaseless staring at the candle. It worked for everyone.

They led you down the hallway to the right; the one where Chica had made her unwelcome appearance. You tried to stuff down the fear that surfaced as you stepped out of the office. The two guards seemed pretty certain that it was safe, but you couldn’t get rid of the sense of vulnerability. The office was hell, but at least in there, you had a somewhat reliable method of protection. Walking the halls after knowing that murderous robots did as well put you on edge. You were never coming back here.

The “break room” was a grubby little thing. It housed a file cabinet, an ice chest, and precisely two fold-up chairs. Apparently, their priorities lay elsewhere.

The kid offered you one of the chairs and you sat gratefully. The chair was by no means comfortable, but compared to the filthy office floor, it was like sitting on a cloud. He took the other chair while the older guard walked over and slid open one of the file cabinet drawers. Even from where you were, you could see the multitude of snacks stuffed in there. You had found their elusive priorities.

“You want anything?” The older guard asked tentatively.

“Yeah!” the kid exclaimed.

“Not you, bonehead.” ‘bonehead’ huffed a grumbled retort. The man turned back to you.

“Uh..Your name’s Yin, right?” You nodded.

“I’m Trey,” he said. He gestured over to the kid. “And that’s Alex.” 

Alex smiled brightly. “Nice to meet you, Yin!”

Your responsive smile was tired, but genuine; despite their uncertainty, they welcomed you kindly and after spending hours in the dark and silence, their warmth was more than comforting.

Trey tossed some chips to Alex and chuckled when he fumbled them. He offered you some as well, but you declined. You had larger matters on your hands. You cut straight to the chase.

“When does the boss come in?”

Trey sighed with the air of a man trying to avoid the inevitable. “You want to quit, yeah?” You didn’t have time to respond before he went on.

“You shouldn’t bother; it’s a waste of time.”

“What do you mean?” You asked incredulously. 

Once you left the building, they had no means to get you back. They couldn’t _force_ you to come back to this place. And if it _somehow_ came to that, that’s exactly what they would have to do. They’d have to drag you in kicking and screaming. You would _not_ be coming back to this hellhole willingly. 

You voiced as much and watched as the energy in the room flatlined. 

“We’ve tried to leave before. Everyone has.” Alex said. He was overcome by a pall far too severe for someone his age to carry. “There’s no point. They can be very..persuasive.” 

You were starting to get frustrated, fear exaggerating your emotions. “What do you mean _‘persuasive?’_ I don’t understand. There’s not much they can bribe me with. I am absolutely going to sue.”

“He ain’t talking about money, Yín. When you signed all their damn forms and contracts, you basically signed away your life. They know too much about you: where you live, who you know, and probably more. They’re really good at controlling people and their methods ain't always..legal.”

“What are you saying? They’re gonna, what, kill me?” You said sarcastically.

“No.” he said. “Not you. They’ll take someone you love; your friends, your family, everyone you know--none of them are safe. They’ll threaten to kill someone you care about and they _will_ follow through.”

You froze, all your bite and sarcasm draining from your body. 

Oh fuck. 

Your first instinct was to disregard it as a joke, but you’d learned the hard way that there were no jokes to be had in this position. It made more sense than you would’ve liked; If they were willing to keep around lethally dangerous animatronics, they probably wouldn’t be above straight-up homicide. 

Your dad, your friends, possibly even your little sister--all their lives on the line because of your careless signature.

_Oh fuck._

You looked at Alex and Trey with new eyes, a sick curiosity pulling at you. Who were they at the risk of losing?

Actually, you didn’t really want to know, because if you thought about that, the next thought was who would you lose? _Who would go first?_

You were now at the mercy of people that were capable of murder and that thought terrified you. Of course it did. That’s what it’s meant to do in the first place. And as for your family..

You wouldn’t put their lives at risk. 

God- _fucking_ -damnit.

You shoved the miasma of your boiling emotions to the side. Those would be dealt with later. As for now..

“I still want to talk with the boss.” You said firmly. “When does she come in?”

Trey fixed you with a pitying look. He sighed again, sliding his hand over his head.

“The manager’ll probably be in today ‘round ten.” He looked so defeated. “Good luck.”

“Thank you. Both of you.” You said. Trey hummed his confirmation, and Alex looked up, some of the darkness in his eyes sliding away. “No problem,” he said, just shy of the energy he held before. 

You stood, brushing off your pants. “Alright, guys. I’ll probably see you both later. Thanks again,” you said with a hasty wave as you stepped out of the room.

The second you were out, anxiety hit you like a ton of bricks. This was bad. This was really, really bad. There was so much to worry about,-- _how could you do that to your family?_ \--but right now, the most pressing thing was getting out of the building.

You had to get to the front door. It was the building’s only exit and that _definitely_ breached some safety code, but that didn’t matter right now.

What was important now was that that exit was in the dining room.

Where the animatronics are.

You were quite certain that the robots were stuck on the stage and while they weren’t likely to move, that did very little to quell your fears. Even the _thought_ of being in the same room with them put you on edge. You'd never seen them in this light before. As killers. 

You’d spent so much time here as a child. You had so many memories of cake and children and music. With this new perspective, all of those joyful memories turned dark and sour. How many lives had the pizzeria’s bright and colourful animatronics taken? How many more would be lost?

You crept anxiously through the halls. The further you got from the break room, the higher your anxiety climbed. The hallways were silent aside from your quiet steps but you were afraid that even those would draw the monsters out.

Being with the other guards created a temporary safe place; Somewhere you could feel reasonably secure despite your surroundings. Leaving that reminded you of leaving the office.

When you got to the entrance of the dining room, you paused. You stared out into it like it was a pit of snakes. The animatronics would be there. With them up on the stage, there was no way you would be able to cross the wide room without their eyes on you. They were going to stop you. They were going to finish the job.

Your collar started feeling tight again. 

You closed your eyes against the grinding of machinery that was starting to fill your mind. No. You could not do this right now. You were not in the office anymore and that moment was over. It was time to face _this_ moment--you knew that, but the clicking of gears didn’t stop. 

Your collar was choking you again. 

You couldn’t breathe. You stifled a sob and forced your body into action. You didn’t stop to think about it any further. You sprinted across the room in a building panic and wrenched the front door open, launching yourself through it. It wasn’t until you were halfway across the parking lot that you looked back. All three of the animatronics were lined up on the stage as they were supposed to be.


	5. Chapter 5

You decided to wait in your car until ten o’clock rolled around. As much as you would’ve loved to go home and cry into a cup of coffee, you didn’t think you were in the proper state to drive. And that was fine. You needed time to process anyway.

Calming yourself down, while still difficult, was much easier when you were no longer in the environment that the panic began in. You blasted the radio as soon as you got in the car, countering the silence and grinding machinery with Britney Spears. After a while, you learned that the cold fought the claustrophobia that choked you, so you blasted the AC too. 

The front windows of the pizzeria displayed the majority of the dining room, and with that came the view of the animatronic stage. Your car was originally parked pretty close to the building, so you took the time to move it to the furthest recess of the parking lot. 

From there, the details of the room were harder to make out and over the course of the next couple of hours, you slowly worked yourself up to the point that you could stare back at the motionless stage. It wasn’t much, but you had to collect the crumbs that were left of your dignity. You didn’t think you got much back.

On the bright side, you had more than enough time to stew and rethink your life decisions. You had in no way been prepared for the events that had taken place in the last few hours. When you woke up that morning, your biggest problem was keeping your dog out of your bed. By the end of the day, your struggle was keeping your life. How could things shift so easily?

So much had changed and you had a feeling that trend would continue. If Trey and Alex were right--which, unfortunately, was likely the case--you would be stuck here. You'd walk in this building every day, waiting for the day you wouldn't walk out..

But you refused to entertain that idea. You were short and you were a coward, but you were determined. You didn’t want to accept this timebomb that you’d been gifted with.

All you wanted was safety for you and your family. The thought of losing your dad, or your sister, or even that little brat of a cousin made your stomach churn. Knowing that you were the one that put their lives at risk in the first place made that feeling so much worse.

You couldn’t help but feel responsible for the whole ordeal. You’d fallen in their trap and generally, you can’t blame the fly for getting caught in a spiders web, but in this case, the fly probably could’ve tried a little harder.

You _knew_ the situation was suspicious when you’d walked in. You deep dived into a scenario that you could’ve avoided had you not been so blinded by greed. You were so driven by the thought of a paycheck, that you didn’t stop to realize what you’d have to do to get it.

Sure, you had a reason behind your desperation, but that’s not an excuse. Bank robbers go to jail no matter what. It doesn’t matter if they were stealing for charity. Thievery is still a crime. Sometimes, the ends _don’t_ justify the means.

It was too late to change the past, but the future is always in the air. You lived by that. You’d already gotten yourself here, but it probably wouldn’t stay this way. _Everything_ was capable of change.

This hope was what got you through to 10 o’clock without falling into a spiral of self-loathing. _You could fix this._ One way or another, you’d get past this.

As the clock ticked closer to the magic number, more and more cars pulled in and settled in the pizzeria’s parking lot. It was only just past nine and the lot was filling far faster than you expected. People were already filing into the restaurant and it took you a minute to realize why.

Tomorrow was July 4th and the restaurant would be closed for Independence Day. They had opened early today to try and rake in a few extra bucks before they shut down this Saturday. You’d completely forgotten about this weekend’s holiday. 

The day didn’t mean much for you aside from that your dad always went to a buddy’s house. He invited you to join him, but barbecues weren’t exactly your thing. You might consider going to a movie or something with a friend, but parties and stuff of that order held little interest to you. 

Regardless of the holiday’s significance, you were happy that it had come up. The less time you spent here, the better.

You waited until around 10:30 before you went inside the pizzeria, counting on the manager already being there. You just wanted to get this over with. Again, the less time you spent here, the better.

You stalled as long as you could before you entered; stopping to tie your hair back, pick fuzz off your shirt, retie your shoes; anything to push it off a little longer. When you couldn’t think of anything else to do, you reluctantly stepped inside the building. 

The pizzeria was filling up fast as was usual for a Friday, more so now with the altered schedule. Little bundles of energy were running between tables, stressed parents were chasing said energy bundles and disgruntled teens were camping at the end of dining tables, clearly been forced to be here. A regular crowd for a family entertainment center.

You didn’t recognize the dark-haired woman managing the entrance till, but she saw your security uniform and let you past without a word, focused on the family she was working with at the moment. 

Your heart was in your throat the moment you stepped into the dining room. The animatronics were active now, running through scripted dialogue and music. There was a mob of kids at the base of the stage, apparently having the time of their lives. You hoped that they were safe.

The robots’ movement made you anxious. You hadn’t _seen_ one move since this whole nightmare unfolded and knowing what they looked like in motion made you nauseous. Their jerky motions on stage contrasted the comparatively smooth movement of the one in the office, where only that awful grinding and clicking gave up its mechanical nature.

You forced that thought out of your mind, not bothering to question why there was a difference. Instead, you focused on the chaos of the restaurant around you to block out the echo of that whirring machinery that was starting to build. You took a deep breath if only to prove to yourself that you could.

Next problem. You would have to cross the dining room again and you were determined for it not to be as panicked as it was before. You were still on the hunt for your dignity crumbs so you forced yourself to stare boldly at the staged robots as you crossed the room, putting on an air of confidence that everyone knew you didn’t have. You were still solidly labeled as A Wuss. Now it was A Wuss In Denial.

You were looking for any signs of the monstrosities they’d revealed themselves to be before, almost waiting for them to snap into action and come at you. You were particularly focused on Chica, unable to forget her piercing stare. You shuddered at the memory of it and failed your efforts to keep from walking faster. 

You weren’t exactly as confident and carefree as you would’ve liked to be, unable to hide the way your hands shook as you turtled into your shirt, clearly anxious and scared. Regardless, you were proud of yourself for still being able to look at them as close as you were. You knew you wouldn’t have managed that feat had the room not been crowded as it was, but it was a start. Baby steps. 

Nothing about their actions changed as they continued their programmed performance, seemingly absent of their malicious tendencies. You made it across the dining room just fine aside from tripping over a few kids. The little gremlins were everywhere. 

Now that you were in the halls, it was time to deal with the next problem: You didn’t know where the Manager’s office was. In fact, you didn’t know where anything was aside from the Parts and Storage room, the Security Office and the “Break Room.” 

There was no other staff in sight, so you had to hunt this maze on your own. You’d seen the layout of the pizzeria through the security cameras, but you’d been too busy panicking to actually process and retain much of that information. Though you _did_ know that the hallway you’d been down to the office didn’t hold much aside from Parts and Service and a storage closet. You headed in the opposite direction.

You wandered around a bit, peeking into a couple of party rooms, and eventually found yourself near an “Arcade.” Much like the Break Room, it was poorly strung together. It housed three beaten machines--one of them looking to be broken--but that didn’t seem to dampen the excitement of the few kids bouncing around in there. They ran the room like it was Dave and Busters. 

Just down from that was a door marked “Manager.” Jackpot.

You knocked on the door and a feminine voice welcomed you in. You stepped in to meet a nicely dressed woman seated behind a desk, setting down the pen she was writing with. She had short blond hair, glasses and fine features that shifted into a smile as she stood to shake your hand.

“Mx Graves. It’s good to see you here. I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Avery, the manager of this location.”

“Hello, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” you said nervously, trying to keep from fidgeting. You weren’t normally this anxious. “I was, um, wanting to talk to you about my position as a night guard.” 

Avery shifted, taking off her glasses. “Yes, I figured that’s why you were here.” She gestured to the two chairs on the side of the desk facing you. “Please,” she offered. “Take a seat.”

When you sat down, she spoke again, dark eyes pinning you in place. “Now, Mx Graves, I’m sure you’ve already talked to a few of my other employees. I’m sure they’ve had plenty to say regarding your job position, haven’t they?” 

You nodded cautiously, nerves on edge. Something was about to happen. 

Her tone was still pleasant. “That’s good. Then you are aware of the _policies_ we have here. We love our teammates and we’d hate to see anyone leave our family.” 

There was a glint in her eyes when she spoke again. “I’m sure you know a lot about family, Yin. Imagine what it would feel like to lose one of them. A parent, a sibling; to see them go would be awful.” Her eyes sharpen to points, a pleasant smile still in place. 

“We don’t want our family here to split like that. Everyone here is a valued member of our team, and we couldn’t even imagine one of them _leaving_.” She laughed lightly as if even the thought was a joke.

“You wouldn’t leave us, Yin. I know it; you’re too kind. So would you promise to stay with us? To keep everyone’s families whole? We can’t have that kind of loss.”

Your heart was caught in your throat, barring any words that may have tried to pass. This didn’t go as planned. Her sharp smile didn’t leave any room for argument. You didn’t know how to fight this. Why do you keep putting yourself in hopeless situations? 

You looked at your hands in your lap and had to fight valiantly not to cry. You couldn't handle anymore fear, anymore panic. Last night--or morning you supposed--was easily the worst thing you'd ever experienced. Waiting helplessly for death to reach your door, staring into the cameras and watching your murderers stare back.

You didn't fall for the “faulty programming” bullshit. The robots knew what they were doing. They were taunting you, toying with your life like it was a game. 

And then you lost. You could never forget the sound of the building shutting down, could never forget the whirring of robotic parts, or the scraping of your chair on the floor. You would never forget staring into the dark as you’re held a foot off the ground, choking on your own shirt..

It was haunting you. You never saw the one that grabbed you, so your brain helpfully created a terrifying meld of all three of the animatronics. It followed you. It had made a home behind your eyes and it didn’t seem too keen to leave. 

You _couldn’t_ stay like this. Coming to this place every day would _literally_ drive you crazy. You were starting to feel like you were already halfway there. You couldn’t stay like this, but you weren’t left with much else of a choice.

You’d come to this room to fight for yourself, but you had brought a feather to a gunfight and thus were in no way prepared for this situation. Honestly, what did you think you could do in the first place? Whatever it was, it wasn’t this. 

You couldn’t give up though. It was too late to back out now. All you had was a feather, but you never know who’s secretly ticklish.

You looked up to Avery’s razor eyes. “Ma’am, um,” you hesitated as she raised an eyebrow, her smile shifting into something dangerous. 

“What can I do for you, Mx Yin?”

Her eyes flickered with an unspoken challenge. “I’ll help you in any way that I can,” she said. “I’m on your side.”

You were staring into the eyes of a shark. If you looked away now, you would lose this fight. Anything you managed to say after that would be useless. Your feather couldn’t handle this. It appeared that your new boss was _not_ secretly ticklish.

Avery tapped her fingers against the desk. “Well, Yin?”

Your drive fizzled out like a light bulb, your feather crumbling to dust. You looked down, defeat burning in your cheeks. “I won’t leave.” You said softly.

“That’s good to hear,” she said. You heard the shuffling of papers and you looked back up. She’d picked up a small pile of papers on her desk and was flipping through them. 

“Since you’re here, Yin,” she said, focused on the stack of papers. “I was needing someone to come in tomorrow morning to help out with some simple maintenance. You wouldn’t mind filling in, would you?”

It wasn’t a question. She was fully aware that tomorrow was a holiday and the pizzeria was closed. This was a power move, a test of your obedience. She looked up at your hesitancy with a smile of knives. 

“Would you be willing to help us, Mx Graves?”

Her eyes were just as sharp as her smile. You had no idea what you were doing. You desperately wanted to fight for your case, plead for a release or at least a compromise. Now it seemed that you were just digging further into your grave. You’d never been in this situation before and you were not prepared to get out. 

Good lord, you were absolutely hopeless. Once again, your Wuss title came back to bite you in the ass.

“Yes, Ma’am.” You said quietly.

She held your gaze firmly, now seeming satisfied. 

“It was good talking to you today, Mx Graves. I’ll see you bright and early at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning. Have a good day.”

You left without another word, making the world’s Most Pathetic Rebellion in not giving a respectful goodbye. 

Your mind was spinning as you walked the halls. You failed. You didn’t even have a fighting chance. It was settled then; you were stuck here.

God- _fucking_ -damnit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Mx is a gender-neutral equivalent to Miss or Mister.


	6. Chapter 6

Your drive home was a somber one. You tried to distract yourself from your pensive thoughts with ones of sleep, but your fantasies were corrupted by the knowledge that your sleep would not be a peaceful one. You were _absolutely_ going to have nightmares and there was no way around it. 

You’d always been overly sensitive, and that often led to nightmares about the strangest things. Once, someone had coughed in a restroom you thought was empty, which not only _literally_ scared the shit out of you but also brought forth a nightmare featuring a sapient toilet and a megaphone. You weren’t very proud of that.

You already had an overactive imagination, but these recent events were going to put all of that to shame. 

You didn’t see your dad’s car in the parking lot when you pulled up to your apartment building, so you assumed he was out with a friend. Your suspicions were proven correct when it was only your dog that greeted you when you stepped through the door of your flat.

Pixie was five pounds of chaotic energy that expressed any and every emotion with manic barking and great zeal. He scurried top speed around a corner and greeted you with much enthusiasm, hurtling across the room in his best impression of a NASCAR racer. You just managed to scoop him up before he crashed into the door behind you. 

“Hey, buddy. Sleep well last night?” The little chihuahua responded with ecstatic wiggling and driven attempts to lick your face, and you broke the first smile you’d had in the last ten hours. Pixie’s energy was exactly what you needed right now.

“I bet you have to pee, huh?” You tossed your bag to the livingroom’s table and took Pixie outside, releasing the little terror to the grass plot between the apartment buildings. 

As you watched him chase birds up into trees and bark at the leaves that fluttered down, you started considering the repercussions that were now on your plate.

For one, you’d have to look into a replacement phone. Your old one was definitely out of business. You didn’t even have to see it to know. It was positively ancient and the fact that it made it this far was actually a miracle. It was probably best that it was put out of its misery. You could swing by the store later and pick up whatever poor chunk of plastic that was next slated to your tender mercies. 

While you weren’t careless, you weren’t exactly _not_ careless. Items in your possession had a tendency to wind up missing which was another reason why it was so impressive that your phone had lasted as long as it did. Hopefully, you could get a solid round two.

Next was your safety. You were not a fighter by any means, but when trapped in a corner, you weren’t going down easy. Last you checked, your physical capabilities hadn’t grown in the last few hours, so you needed a reliable backup for when things inevitably went sideways.

There still wasn’t much in your arsenal, much less anything you could properly wield. Even less than _that_ was something that could have been effective. Again, they’re _robots_. How do you _hurt_ a _robot_?

Of the few weapons that properly suited your _capabilities_ , pepper spray was typically your go-to, but that was out for obvious reasons. Then there was a taser which… Actually _wasn’t_ a bad idea. 

You’d never tased a machine before, so you weren’t exactly sure how that would play out, but it was better than nothing. In fact, you think your dad might’ve had one somewhere in the chaos of his possessions. You had your doubts, but it was definitely a start. 

You let Pixie yap at a few more leaves before you called him back in. He came running at you with the same gusto he always held and you quickly opened the door before he ran into it. You learned early on to do so as collisions were not an uncommon occurrence for him. You didn’t always get to the door in time.

Your apartment was a humble one, holding a small living room, a small kitchenette, and an even smaller bedroom. That small bedroom was the only one in the layout, so your dad had claimed the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture he’d brought when he moved in. Of that collection were also two lawn chairs, three suitcases, and a lamp.

Most of his belongings were strewn out on the living room floor for “convenience,” but he managed to keep it all in the corner of the room. You commended him for that. It was rather impressive considering your family's track record. You didn’t have much room to judge him; your room didn’t fare much better.

You really didn’t want to look through his stuff while he wasn’t here, but you knew he wouldn’t be back until much later, if not tomorrow. You’d need that taser by the next morning, and if he wasn’t going to be back before then, you’d be in a sticky situation. You would’ve liked to call him, but you were missing the key ingredient for that one. 

You decided to address that problem after breakfast. Not only were you hungry, but you were hoping that a couple of hot pockets would somehow aid your mental health. You noted that the contents of your fridge were steadily dwindling down to skeletons.

Empty beer cans and half-eaten plates of unidentifiable origin populated the space courtesy of your dad. You had enough to manage for a couple of days, but it was nigh time for both a purge and a trip to the store. 

Pixie circled your feet like a shark as soon as you sat down to eat, and while you didn’t usually give in to his begging, you were feeling soft and threw him a bit of crust, possibly hoping for some cosmic karma.

You sat at the table for a while, watching as Pixie gradually settled down and hopped onto the couch. You generally tried to keep him off the furniture, but he was stubborn and eventually, you started to give up. He always looked a bit smug when you saw him on something he wasn’t supposed to be on. Apparently, it wasn’t only humans that you lost to in a battle of wills.

You sighed, laying your head on the table, once again struck by how _easily_ you were shut down by Avery. You hardly got in a single word. Your problem was that you were too easily intimidated. You’d be lying if you said you’d never felt threatened by a child.

It was sad, but in your defense, middle schoolers tended to travel in packs.

You honestly didn’t know what you hoped to achieve by meeting with Avery. Trey and Alex made it clear that most of the staff tried to quit--including them. They were both surely bolder than you, and if _they_ couldn’t accomplish anything, then your efforts were clearly doomed to failure. 

It only paid off to be stubborn when you had the means to pull through. Without those means, you just made a fool of yourself. 

You sat there long enough that Pixie managed to fall asleep, and that was no small feat. That dog can _and has_ spent several hours on end, bursting with his mindless energy, often running through your home with the enthusiasm of a startled cat, or absolutely _destroying_ the chew toys you so frequently replaced. He always crashed afterward, and the fact that he was asleep now meant he’d likely spent most, if not all of the night awake. 

He’d never been home alone at night before, so that might have contributed to that behavior. It seemed like both of you had been out of your element last night. 

You decided that it was finally time to accept the inevitable and headed to your room, ready to give in to your need to sleep, and by extension, your nightmares. 

You weren’t the most organized person out there, and your room definitely reflected that. Various items were strewn across the floor much like your father’s, whom you’d definitely learned your disorderly habits from. 

A lot of that clutter was centered around The Chair, where you had a habit of putting things to “deal with later.” Even now, you shed your security uniform and threw most of it in that direction.

You changed your clothes and started for the bathroom to take care of your hygienic needs. When you came back to your room, Pixie was on your pillow, fast asleep. You sighed. 

You ordinarily would’ve given him the boot, but you knew he’d be back as soon as you fell asleep. Besides, if there ever was a special occasion, it was now. You could probably do with some moral support. You set out his food for when he woke up and crawled into bed. As expected, the animatronics followed you into your dreams. 

-=-=-

_Your throat was closing up as you desperately ran from a machine you couldn’t see. The world was dark around you and you had little sense of your surroundings. A dim light chased behind you, bringing a piercing stare you couldn’t see. There were so many eyes._

_A strong grip clasped around your throat, stealing what little air you’d managed to keep before. You’d been caught. You were turned around to face the monster that chased you._

You shot upright with a gasp, startling Pixie who’d taken residence on your legs. He scrambled off the bed in a panic but jumped back up after a few seconds. If dogs could glare, he was doing so right then. 

Your nightmare was fading by the second, taking the rows of sharp, sharp teeth with it, but the choking feeling stayed. _You couldn’t breathe._

You were scratching at your collar and desperately gasping for air that wouldn’t come. Machinery clicked and whirred all around you and _you couldn’t breathe_. 

You were panicking and everything was falling apart. Not even your uncontrollable sobbing was loud enough to block out the grinding of gears and the mechanical whirr of movement. You would have screamed if you could’ve drawn breath. _You couldn’t breathe_.

It took you a second to register movement on your lap and even more to realize that it was Pixie wiggling around and trying to lick your face. 

You sobbed and held him, pulling him close to your chest and focusing on his constant movement and sound until you leveled out, eventually left with a tear-streaked face and shuddering breaths. 

When you were ready, you let go of Pixie and he jumped up at your face again, getting in a solid lick before bounding off the edge of the bed and to your bedroom door, just managing to stop before he ran into it. He pawed at the door eagerly, obviously wanting to be let out. 

You buried your face in your hands. You couldn't live like this. You couldn't continuously lose yourself to panic attacks every time you slept. You knew it would happen again. This would be haunting you for a while. 

You had a hard time letting go of things already and with this turn of events, your subconscious was having an absolute field day.

Goddamn this stupid pizzeria. How would you even _begin_ to resolve this? You needed sleep, but doing so would bring on the panic, which you’d like to avoid. But trying not to sleep wouldn't help either because your mental clarity would decline without rest, thus giving your fear more room to work with.

You were once again in a situation that you didn't know how to get out of. 

What you _did_ know how to do though was let Pixie out into the lot, so you got up to do just that. You’d slept much longer than expected, as evidenced by the sun’s eager reach for the horizon.

The clock read 7:21 pm, meaning that you’d somehow managed to get a full eight hours of sleep despite your nightmares. It was a Christmas miracle. In July. A double miracle.

Pixie enthusiastically resumed his vocal attack on leaves once outside, and _you_ resumed your stressing about the near future. Your dad still wasn’t home, meaning you now had to come up with a decision on whether or not you were going to rummage through his nightmare of possessions in search of a taser. 

You knew you were overthinking it, but you couldn’t help it. You mulled over it for a second, but thought back to Chica’s bone-chilling stare and decided to just take it. Problem solved. You were 99.5% sure that he wouldn’t mind anyway. 

You gave Pixie a little more time to terrorize a few more birds, then called him in. He narrowly dodged the door frame on his way into the flat. 

With that done, you only had two more tasks to address before you ran out of productive activities. You decided to start with the taser.

Your dad’s things could have contained any number of hazards, so you carefully picked through the piles on the floor, trying to not look too closely at anything lest you see something that you had no business seeing. 

You widely avoided a sticky-looking sock of which origins you didn’t want to think about, and eventually found a small rectangular device inside of a well-worn fanny pack. The smartphone-sized box was labeled “Handheld Stun Gun.” Perfect. 

You took the time to carefully poke around the thing in an attempt to familiarize yourself with it. You found what was obviously the power button, a safety switch, and the sweet bonus of a built-in flashlight. 

You’d never used a stun gun before, so when you experimentally pressed the on-button, you flinched spectacularly at the flash of light and the nigh deafening sound it made. You ended up practically throwing the device across the room with a startled yelp. 

The menacing startup was definitely enough for you to feel confident in using it defensively. You had no idea of how it would work on a robot, but it certainly gave you some semblance of security. You retrieved the device and tucked it into your bag. That stun gun was definitely coming with you for the foreseeable future. 

Last and most likely least on your agenda was food. Dinner was beckoning you eagerly. You poked around the kitchen a bit and came away with microwaved corndogs and a cup of coffee. You wouldn’t be able to sleep that night due to both your nightmares and your disrupted sleep schedule. You were fine with that.

It appeared that you and Pixie would be pulling an all-nighter with the aid of caffeine and the wifi connection. You curled up on the couch and buried yourself in the depths of Netflix, doing your best to keep the thoughts of your future away.


	7. Chapter 7

You were very close to being late for your meeting with Avery. It was something that you were used to, but it felt much more substantial given the circumstances. You got the feeling that a sharp attendance was very important right now. You didn't know what she would do,--if anything--but it wasn't a risk you wanted to take.

You blamed the loss of your phone. That's where you set your alarms to remind you of important events, and without that, you were absolutely hopeless. Despite your anxiety regarding it, you'd completely forgotten about the event. It was only Pixie's pestering to go outside that distracted you from whatever you were doing. You'd now forgotten what that distracting activity was in the first place. Absolutely hopeless. 

Pixie had become your saving grace since this nightmare of events began to unfold. He was resoundingly the most important thing in your life right now. 

You managed to get inside the pizzeria right as the clock hit 8 am. You had once again received a July-Christmas miracle. 

That miracle that didn’t seem to matter much though because Avery wasn't in the dining room when you walked in. You assumed she was in her office. That was great because she couldn't possibly expect you to walk into her _office_ at 8 am, meaning you had a bit of leeway in your tardiness. 

This also meant you would have to cross the dining room alone to get there. 

This was much, _much_ worse. 

There was no-one else around. You would have no barrier between the animatronics and you, and that was not a thought you wanted to handle. You knew it wasn’t likely that they would move. You knew that you would probably make it across the dining room just fine.

You _also_ knew that you were overthinking it. You’d managed to cross the room before,--on your first night no less--but this somehow felt different. 

Maybe it was the knowledge that you were entering as opposed to leaving.

Maybe it was the _lack_ of knowledge of whether or not you would even be _able_ to leave.

Maybe it was the fact that you would be doing this every single day with no end in sight. 

Regardless, it felt different. This felt like the final seal to your fate.

The confidence behind your belief that they were completely stationary was what kept the grinding of machinery away. You knew they wouldn’t move. They wouldn’t move. You told yourself that until you truly believed it.

Imagine your surprise when you realized that one of the robots were already gone. 

You stared at the animatronic stage in true and complete shocked horror, desperately hoping that your eyes had glitched in some way. Your eyes were true. They couldn’t lie about the fact that Freddy- _freaking_ -Fazbear was not on the stage and was nowhere in sight.

This was not supposed to happen. This was not supposed to _freaking_ happen! It was bad enough when you were in the office. It was awful, but you had doors there. You had doors in the office that could keep you safe, and now you were without those. Now you were forced to walk the halls that the animatronics walked, but now one of them was _on the freaking loose._

This was it. You were dead. You were careening down the road of death in a speeding car with no breaks. _You were dead_. 

You _could_ leave now. You were by the front doors. You could just turn around and go home to find another cup of coffee to cry into. You had a lot of cups, most of them clean. 

You _desperately_ wanted to go home to your clean coffee mugs, but you couldn’t. If you left, who knows what Avery would do. She had a lot to work with. You couldn’t leave, but you couldn’t stay either. 

You could _not_ walk into those halls. Once off the stage, the animatronics were anything but stationary. They walked around, and they did so surprisingly fast. _Nowhere_ was safe.

They even went into _closets_. Imagine walking down a hallway, and have a giant fucking robot bear jump out of a storage closet. You could not handle this. _This wasn’t supposed to happen!_

You were so close to tears. Oh, how close you were to tears. But you stuffed them back down. You were past this. You were past the point of crying about frozen robots. You were not, however, past crying about mobile ones. _This wasn’t supposed to happen!_

You had to get to Avery’s office and you would _not_ walk in crying. You were not going to let that happen. You couldn’t. You were going to pull up your big kid panties and you were going to walk into those halls calmly. You would deal with the trouble once it happened, and not a moment before. 

It was then that you remembered your taser. You fumbled through your bag and retrieved what was absolutely going to be your savior. You were going to get through this, and you were going to electrocute the _shit_ out of anything that got in your way. 

You took your Wuss title and broke it. You were getting past this with confidence. 

On further consideration, you kept the shards of your Wuss title and put them in your back pocket. For safekeeping. 

You switched off the safety of your taser and took a deep breath. You then forced one foot in front of the other until you were fully in the dining room. You were still anxious about the animatronics on the stage, but you figured the one walking around was a bit more important.

Regardless, you still stared them down as you crossed the room, now considering the possibility of them coming off the stage too. No-one moved.

You held your taser like a sword the second you were in the halls. Every hair was on end, and you looked over your shoulder every 2.5 seconds. You peeked around corners before you took them, and you cautiously looked through every doorway you came across before you walked past them. You were on constant vigilance the entire time.

You felt like a discount ninja as you navigated the halls, moving as silently as possible as you made your way around. At some point, you remembered that the robots had really heavy footsteps and you were comforted by that; it meant that you’d hear Freddy if he approached. However, this didn’t do much for you if he was standing still. Lurking around some corner... Waiting to attack...

You eventually made it to Avery’s office, and while she made you uncomfortable, that feeling paled in comparison to the one the robot prowling around did. Despite Avery’s intimidating nature, you instantly felt much safer in her presence. Circumstantially. 

You made sure to put your taser away before you entered. You got the feeling that she wouldn’t approve. You opened the door without knocking, wanting to get out of the hall as soon as possible. She startled slightly as you anxiously whipped the door open. Her expression quickly shifted into what could have been a welcoming smile under different circumstances. 

“Mx Graves. I’m glad to see you’ve made it on time. How was your day? I mean yesterday, of course.” She laughed.

“Fine.” You replied cautiously. You didn’t give her the polite return of the question that was due in yet another pathetic rebellion. 

“That’s good,” she said. “I love to hear that you’re happy.” You just stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. God, she was such an ass.

“Now, I’m sure you’re eager to start work,” she continued. “After all, the sooner you start, the sooner you can finish the task and go home.” she smiled. “Come with me, and I’ll show you what you are to do.” 

She stood and made her way around the desk, leading fearlessly into the hallways. How…?

You must be missing something. You studied her. Were _you_ missing something, you thought, or was _she?_ Did she know about Freddy's disappearance?

You followed her into the halls, greatly comforted by her confidence and just human presence in general. It’s the same as it was with Alex and Trey; being around someone created a sense of safety in an otherwise dangerous environment. 

Besides, you could probably run faster than her, meaning that if something went down, she’d keep the assailant (Freddy Fuckwad) busy long enough for you to make your getaway. Heartless, but true.

You were led through the halls without incident and ended up outside the Parts and Service room. You didn’t like where this was going. 

Avery opened the door for you and ushered you into the dark room. You stepped in cautiously, suspicious of some kind of trick. You were right to be suspicious. She flipped on the lights and you yelped, jumping about a foot in the air. 

He was in there! The _giant freaking robot bear_ was _in_ the freaking room! You launched yourself out of the space like a startled cat. _This wasn’t supposed to **fucking** happen!_

He was sitting motionless on the table, facing the doorway and Avery just stood there, completely unconcerned. In fact, she had an amused smile curling at her lips. What the hell is wrong with her?! 

“Oh, not to worry, Yin.” She said. “He’s powered down.” 

She knocked lightly on his shoulder to demonstrate and you jumped again, terrified of an impending attack, but he didn’t move. 

“See,” she said. “Completely harmless.” 

_Completely harmless, my ass._ you thought. _What the fuck is wrong with this lady?!_

More importantly, what sick plan did she have? Why the hell did she bring you here? You had an awful suspicion that you did not want to acknowledge. 

Why do you keep ending up in these situations? _How_ do you keep ending up in these situations? 

You couldn’t handle this. You couldn’t handle being so close to one of the animatronics, but more than that, you couldn’t handle knowing that you had no choice but to stay. You desperately shoved down the tears building up. Why do you _cry_ when you’re scared? It was a terrible reaction, and the fact that you were always scared made it worse. 

You could not allow yourself to cry right now. You wouldn’t. You would not. You were done crying about stationary animatronics. _But it doesn’t count when you’re ten feet away from them!_

But you _were not_ going to cry about this. You were _not_ going to acknowledge the whirring of machinery in your head. You were _not_ going to acknowledge your collar’s sudden constriction around your neck. 

What you were going to do was get over this shit, and you were going to do it _fast_ because a poorly timed panic attack would end in your death. 

Freddy was facing the doorway, and you--being in the doorway--did not enjoy feeling stared at by a giant freaking bear of _death._

You were going to leave the doorway and the only two options were to either leave the room and go back down the hallway--this sounded very appealing now knowing where he was--but that wasn’t going to be possible, so you were going to have to step into the room to get out of the doorway. 

You anxiously did just that, hugging the wall like you were stuck to it. Avery smiled, seeming to be very entertained by your visceral fear. _Fuck you._

“Don’t worry too much about Freddy here,” she said. “He’s just in here in preparation for upcoming maintenance today. We have a mechanic coming in around noon, so we moved him here for convenience.” There was a terrible glint in her eyes. 

“The fact that we had work scheduled completely slipped my mind when I asked you to come in today. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.” 

What the hell?! She was going to put you through all of this because you talked to her about quitting? This lady was _truly_ evil in every sense of the word. What the _actual_ fuck was wrong with her? 

Avery’s smile was one of broken glass. “I suppose that since you’re already here, you might as well get the job done, hm? All we need you to do today is clean out and tidy up this room here. As you can see, it’s become a bit of a mess.” she laughed “Now, as I’m sure you’re aware,” she gestured to the power generator in the corner of the room. 

“This is where we keep our generator. The only reason that this is important to point out is because we, unfortunately, do not have sufficient airflow in this room, meaning that the gas fumes produced are effectively trapped in here. It’s going to be crucial that you keep the room ventilated.” 

She gave you another vicious smile. “Oh, and don’t forget that you’re still on shift tonight.” 

And before you could begin to process the sheer cruelty of this woman, she was walking out of the room. She gave you a condescending pat on the head. 

“I hope you learn something new today, Yin. It’s good for you.” 

And she was gone, leaving alone in a room with what was a supposedly “powered down” animatronic with an unknown kill score. 

_“What the fuck?”_ you whispered. 


	8. Chapter 8

You didn’t even know where to start. There was so much to deal with right now. What were you supposed to do in this situation? 

Why were you in yet _another_ helpless situation?

You reconsidered the thought of leaving. You were pretty sure Avery had left the building which was very kind of her. Thank you for leaving me alone, _Avery_. How sweet. 

With her gone though, there was no reason that you couldn’t leave. Despite, of course, that she would see that you hadn’t done anything the next day. She’d see that you disobeyed her order and then everything would go to shit. 

You just found out first hand how freaking terrible she was for positively no reason. You didn’t want to find yourself in another situation like this one, so you had to do this. 

It may not have mattered though. Trying not to repeat this kind of situation wouldn’t mean anything for you if you died before you got the chance to get out. 

You’d realized though that she might not have put you here to kill you. After all, the whole point was to keep you from leaving. You wouldn’t be very helpful to her if you were dead. The fact that she’d left you here alone must have meant that she was confident that you’d come out alive. This was just a scare tactic.

And it was a pretty fucking effective one as well. Despite this knowledge, despite knowing that you were probably safe, you were still scared shitless. You couldn’t handle another encounter with an animatronic. You had made it out of the office alive--somehow--and that meant that you could probably go through another situation like that and still be functional. 

Maybe that’s what she had planned. Maybe she planned another interaction with the animatronics like the one you’d been through. That would “teach you a lesson” while ensuring that you could still come back for more. 

She was fucking _evil_.

You had to start with this though. One thing at a time. 

Step One: Get the fuck out of the death room. 

Step Two: Figure out what you were going to do next.

Step one was easy. You were gone. Boom. Back to hallways it was. You stood just to the side of the doorway, once again trying to avoid the empty stare of an animatronic. First Chica, now Freddy. You didn’t want to stick around long enough to have that encounter with Bonnie. _Why were you in this situation!?_

You decided that you should deal with the fumes first. You could figure out a solution for that problem without actually being in the Parts and Service room. You had to take a minute, but you eventually thought back to the office. You _thought_ you remembered a fan somewhere in that storm of chaos that covered the desk. You didn’t think that it would do very much, but it was better than nothing.

You whipped out your taser again and headed in that direction. You peeked into the Parts and Service room once more to make sure nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. Freddy was still sitting there staring into the distance. You shuddered.

When you walked into the Security Office, you were surprised that being there didn’t bring anything back. You were almost proud of yourself until you realized that would definitely change once the lights began to flicker and your life was back on the line. This place was an absolute hellscape.

The office was still as trashed as you remembered. They replaced the spinning chair you broke with another one that somehow looked even older than the last one. They had also left the smashed monitors on the floor. Their solution to the mess was to just shove them into the corner of the room. 

You had no remorse about the damages you’d made. If they were going to threaten your life, you were going to threaten their budget. It was yet another of your pathetic rebellions. 

Just as you’d thought, there was a fan on the desk. It was unplugged, so you found the room’s electric outlet and checked to see if it was functional. You cringed slightly as it whirred to life, unsure if its sound was going to bring on another episode. 

Nothing escalated so you mentally patted yourself on the back and took your prize, starting back for the Parts and Service room. You took the time to scoop up the remains of your phone that you’d broken. You never know what might be useful in the future.

You peeked into the room once again when you got back. You were half expecting him to be standing, or worse than that, gone. It was like losing sight with a spider; you didn’t like seeing it, but _not_ seeing it was worse. 

Nothing had changed. You took a deep breath and forced yourself into the room before you could work it up into a bigger event than necessary. You were going to get yourself through this nightmare by sheer force of will.

You pressed against the wall and edged cautiously around Freddy with the fan you’d nabbed from the office, ending up in the corner of the room that held the generator. 

You never let your eyes off the back of the robot, fully aware that _seeing_ him would do nothing to help you if/when he attacked, but it somehow made you feel more secure. Human psychology was weird. 

You had no idea of how to set up the fan in any way that would possibly affect the airflow in a useful manner. You still didn’t think it would help in the first place; it was too small of a fan to do anything significant. 

Regardless, you set it up in front of the generator and faced it in the direction of the door. You sighed at the pathetic setup. That was going to do absolutely nothing for you. Whatever. Next problem.

It was time to address the elephant in the room. Or animatronic in this case. What were you going to do about him? Was there anything that _could_ be done?

You decided to just poke him. It was a sudden thought and a bold move. Far too bold for you. You knew it was both stupid and ironic to _literally_ be poking a bear. The last thing you wanted to do was provoke him, but you wouldn’t be able to do anything productive if you were staring at a robot the whole time. It was as Avery said, the sooner you got this done, the sooner you could leave.

If you could get away with poking him, you were most likely in the clear. You could work with the tiniest smidge of your fear abated knowing that he _probably_ wouldn’t move. You were also slightly comforted that you had some evidence that you wouldn’t die. 

You also had your taser, which brought you even more comfort. You still had no idea of its effect--if any--but it gave you a sense of confidence.

This was a _terrible_ decision.

That didn’t stop you. You were going to put that broken Wuss title to use and you were going to do something productive.

You readied your taser. You weren’t going to poke him with _that_ ; you just wanted to be ready if/when shit went down.

You grabbed the nearest stick-like object--a screwdriver--and slowly stretched your arm forward, leaning away as much as possible to keep most of your body far from the machine. 

You poked the back of his arm and jumped back, all but expecting him to turn and attack you. You stared at him expectantly, waiting for something to happen. He didn’t move. 

You did it again, nudging him a little harder this time. Still nothing. 

You sighed a deep breath of relief, calming your racing heart. Ok. This was good. You could work with this. Maybe he was _actually_ "powered down." 

You would now be able to let your eyes off of him for at least a whole 15 seconds. This was major progress. Next problem.

Cleaning materials. You snooped around the room a little, still extremely wary of the motionless machine in the center of the room. 

Under the table he sat on, you saw the same bucket your mystery guide was using on your first night. From where you were against the wall, it looked like there were more towels inside. That would do nicely.

Of course, it was under the table and you weren't too keen on reaching under there and letting Freddy out of sight. Poke or not, you didn't want to take any chances. What if he was waiting until you stopped looking before his attack?

He was an Absolute Unit, taking up most of the table. Why were the animatronics so _huge?_

You’d seen it with Chica through the office window; they were absolutely massive and it was even more apparent being so close. You felt like a child again. Even sitting down, Freddy had at least a foot over you, and you did not like that at _all_. Who thought this was a good idea? Who decided that robots for a children’s pizzeria should be eight feet tall and twice the width of a human?

Tall people made you uncomfortable. This was problematic because you _barely_ reached five feet ( 4’ 11.7” Very close, mind you.) and _yes_ , you were mad about it. At your height, everyone was tall and you didn’t like it. 

It was bad normally, but with _freaking robot killers_ it felt so much worse. _Why were you in this situation!?_

With him taking up pretty much all of the table, there was no way you were going to get much closer. Again, poke or not, you didn't want to take any more chances. 

The boldness that it took to _actually_ poke one of the freaking death robots drained every last bit of your confidence reserves and you were running on empty. Your Wuss title was slowly putting itself back together. 

You tried not to think too much about the situation you were in because that would lead you down a road you couldn't handle. 

Now was not the time for a panic attack.

After a second of consideration, you decided to just kick the tub from under the table. You could grab it when it rolled away. You tried to kick it at a side angle so that it wouldn't roll around to the front of the room where Freddy was staring, and just managed to do so. Great. Next problem.

You were out of problems. Or at least ones you could solve. Now it was just the actual cleaning to be done.

You started with the corner you were already in. You didn't have access to any chemical cleaning materials, and you weren't willing to go find any. You could not walk into that stare again.

The towels weren't wet either, so that meant you would just effectively be dusting the shelves, and now that you thought about it, the animatronic casings. 

Some of the heads--you didn't like the image of detached robot heads--still had their plastic eyes. You knew they were there as you'd been here before, but you were just now taking note of the eyes because you were distracted by the ones attached to a very large, very mobile robot of fucking _doom_. 

You still didn't like the detached eyes and you didn't like any of the other spare parts either. You weren't going to touch them. You would work around them.

It was bad enough being in the same room as an animatronic, and you definitely weren't going to step that up by _touching_ one of them. Attached or not, it was gonna be _fat_ no.

Just like in the halls, you glanced over your shoulder every 2.5 seconds, and also like in the halls, your taser never left your hand. It was inefficient, sure, but you were going to have to interrupt your workflow a bit as your safety was of higher value.

Besides, the work was pretty easy in the first place; aside from reaching the top shelves, there was no struggle. You briefly considered an effort to reach them, but then decided that effort wouldn’t be worth it. You had the feeling that Avery wasn't very concerned about how thorough your clean was anyway.

You were basically just running the towels over the shelves collecting all the dust, but despite the simple nature of the job, it was working wonders for the room. The dust had so many layers, you'd think you were trying to clean Shrek. 

Your efforts were definitely paying off. The dust coated pretty much everything, and with it cleared, the room actually looked decent. The fact that it had gotten this bad in the first place, said a lot about the staff's maintenance efforts. 

Considering this, there was a chance that Avery had only called in a mechanic today to torment you. Maybe there wasn't anything scheduled at all and she'd just moved Freddy here for a cost-efficient kind of tormenting.

That woman was _evil_.

After a while, you started to feel a bit foggy and a headache began to form. You ignored it for the most part, attributing it to your lack of sleep and your undying stress and paranoia. 

Your movements were becoming increasingly clumsy and it was only after you dropped your taser and had a hard time gathering the thought to retrieve it, that you started to realize that you had a problem. It took your addled mind a few minutes, but you eventually pinpointed the issue. You'd forgotten about the gas fumes.

 _Fuck_. Was your first thought, but you had a hard time pulling up a second one. Most of your brain urged you to leave the room and you knew that's what you should’ve done, but something was holding you back. 

Some other part of your brain didn't want to cross the room, and you couldn't remember why you were so apprehensive. You forced your body into action regardless and stumbled, almost losing your footing.

You managed to keep yourself moving, _really_ not wanting to pass out in a room with poisoned air, but in the few seconds it took you to cross the room, your legs tapped out and you were falling.

The last thing you processed was a firm grip on your upper arm before you fell unconscious.


	9. Chapter 9

Waking up sucked. A headache like you'd never known pounded behind your eyes--which were also taking a beating due to bright overhead lights. Your chest hurt, your throat hurt--everything in general just kind of sucked. 

When you managed to open your eyes enough to actually see, you were greeted by several blobs of colour that slowly shifted into shape. Those shapes steadily grew more detail until the point that you could tell what they were. Regardless, it still took your brain a few seconds to register that the shapes were the animatronics.

_The animatronics! **The animatronics!!**_

_**'Fuck!!'**_ Your brain screamed. You were flat on your back and had a _splendid_ view of the three of the robots as you lay at their feet. Your brain didn't have enough time to process any more of _anything _because you were launching yourself away as fast as your body could manage.__

You wildly scrambled back with little to no attention to your surroundings, completely focused on getting _away_ and cried out as you suddenly fell to _another_ ground. It took you a second to realize that you had just fallen off the animatronic stage. 

The stage was much higher than you remembered it being and your undignified landing hurt, but the pain was _greatly_ overshadowed by pure unfiltered panic. _Why!? How!?_ And your new personal favourite: _What the **fuck!?** Why were you in this situation!?_

The stage was completely still--the three of the robots were frozen in place, but that did nothing to stop your panicked flee. You somehow managed to get to your feet, and you were halfway across the dining room in the blink of an eye. You would have kept going _very_ fast until you were back at home with your clean coffee cups, but you were halted by two facts. 

___One: The building still appeared to be empty. It was still early morning and no cars were in the lot. This wasn't very significant until you considered_ _ _

Two: You had moved. Being unconscious, you obviously couldn't have moved yourself. You _should_ have been in the Parts and Service room and probably dead due to the lack of breathable air. 

___Instead, you woke up on the animatronic stage--where Freddy had somehow appeared. He shouldn't have moved either._ _ _

___Considering factor One, there was a lot of evidence that an animatronic--most likely Freddy--had moved you out of the gas-filled room, and thus had basically saved your life._ _ _

There was _so much_ to process about that. 

___Your first thought was that this was part of Avery's plan. After all, her goal was to scare the living daylights out of you but ensure that you still came back kicking. This must have been part of that. What if Freddy was in the Parts and Service room not only to terrify you but also as a fail-safe if you passed out?_ _ _

The problem with this though was how did he know that you had passed out in the first place? There was no way that the animatronics had some kind of sensor to identify the consciousness or lack thereof in a person. This brought you back to the problem. _How did he know that you had passed out?_

You didn't like this. You didn't like this at _all_. There were only so many possible answers to this question, and given your suspicions that the robots were aware of their actions at night, drew you to a theory that you did not want. Were the robots _sapient???_

The problem with _that_ though-- _aside from the obvious_ \--was that it raised another question. If the animatronics killed people as some kind of _hobby_ , why had they not only _left_ you alive but went a step further to actively _keep_ you alive? 

_So much_ to process. 

This left you in yet _another_ situation you had no idea how to deal with. You weren't sure what was the proper action to be taken here. What are you supposed to _do?_

___You decided to take things one step at a time. Present now, crippling existential crisis later._ _ _

If the animatronics were truly sapient-- _somehow_ \--you should obviously do your best to stay in their "good graces." You should probably thank them. After all, you were alive right now thanks to Freddy-- _which was not a thought you liked._

Sure, you wouldn't have been in that situation in the _first place_ if not for them, but you weren't in the best position to properly load them the blame that was due. 

_____The best thing in your arsenal right now--aside from your taser--was politeness. Maybe your manners could get you out of these constant life-or-death situations. If you were nice, maybe they would be less inclined to kill you and leave you alone. You didn't have many other choices. You were not trying to go through stuff like this again._ _ _ _ _

You nervously turned back to face the stage. It was still motionless, but you could've _sworn_ Bonnie was staring at you. _Why!?_

_____Now you could check Bonnie off on the list of animatronics you’d been stared at by. It was a 3/3 deal. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid. You were never going to get over your fear if the robots didn't stop doing unnecessary creepy things._ _ _ _ _

_____You resisted the awful urge to move around and see if his eyes followed you, and instead nervously scuffed your shoes on the ground. You had to commit to your decision._ _ _ _ _

_____"Uhm, thanks." You said quietly, inspecting the fascinating patterns of the dining room's black and white tiles. "You know, for moving me."_ _ _ _ _

_____You glanced up at the stage to see if there was any reaction, and though you knew he'd moved you outside of his programming, you absolutely lost your shit when Freddy inclined his head in a brief nod._ _ _ _ _

_Oh fuck!_ You jumped back as if burned and nearly tripped over yourself. That's not ok! That is _not_ ok! Despite your suspicions, you still managed to be shocked. _Nope._

_____You turned and jog-walked out of the building as fast as possible with a small squeak of "ok bye."_ _ _ _ _

_____-=-=-_ _ _ _ _

You once again had a sombre drive home, though this one was laced with barely muted panic. _What the fuuuuck?_

_____You weren't sure what you expected out of that interaction. Of all the outcomes possible, the one you'd gotten was around the middle of the pack._ _ _ _ _

The worst one entailed them stepping off the stage, and the best outcome was probably no reaction at all. Though on the other hand, a lack of reaction would lead you to have to interpret the meaning behind it. _Could your suspicions be wrong, or could they still be angry?_ Neither of those meanings would explain their actions though, so it was possible that you had gotten the best outcome. You didn't want to think about it. 

You _knew_ now was probably your time to reflect, but you tried to push it off regardless. Maybe you could get away with not thinking about it at all. You didn't think you'd be that lucky. 

It was just so _weird_. This whole situation was just _so weird._ How had you ended up in this position? Was this really where the culmination of all your life decisions had dumped you? Were you really that bad of a decision-maker? 

_____You knew the answer to that question, but you didn't acknowledge it._ _ _ _ _

_____Your dad’s car was in the lot when you got home. Its glossy red finish was impossible to miss in the surrounding sea of black and white. His car was flashy, expensive, and lightyears out of his budget. He’d prioritized its purchase over a home after mom left and he had to sell their house. That was the majority of the reason as to why he'd moved in with you._ _ _ _ _

_____Your dad wasn’t the most financially responsible guy out there, but he wasn’t a burden in your home so you didn’t mind him staying for now. Hopefully, he’d get his own place soon._ _ _ _ _

_____Pixie crashed face-first into your shins the second you opened the door to your flat, and you got the feeling that he was already running before you even touched the handle. Pixie was great, but he had about as many brain cells as you had fingers. You scooped him up and he resumed his eager attempts to lick your face as if there was never any pause._ _ _ _ _

_____He continued his enthusiastic squirming as you stepped further into your home. Your dad was on the couch with a beer, watching what looked like a crime documentary. He paused the show at your entrance._ _ _ _ _

_____“Yin!” he grinned. “You’re back early! ...Or is it late? I still don’t understand your work schedule.”_ _ _ _ _

_____You set Pixie down and he raced off like a crank-wind toy, disappearing into the kitchen.. And then reappeared to take his vanishing act to the bathroom.. And then to your room.. Then back to the bathroom.._ _ _ _ _

_____You turned back to your dad. “Yeah, I don’t understand it either,” you said with an attempted smile. There was too much on your mind and your dad seemed to notice. His grin softened to concern._ _ _ _ _

_____“Work got you down?” He asked softly. “Wanna unload? I’ve got all day, you know.”_ _ _ _ _

_____You sighed and dropped the tension from your shoulders. As much as you didn't want to, you knew you did need to vent. Maybe your dad would have some helpful feedback._ _ _ _ _

_____You carded your fingers back through your hair. "Yeah, I probably should; today fucking sucked.”_ _ _ _ _

_____He patted the couch beside him. “Come, come,” he said. “I have ancient tales of wisdom which I shall provide free of charge.”_ _ _ _ _

_____You pulled a small smile and sat beside him. Your dad had a natural disarming kind of charm. It was a trait he held across the board and it drew people to him like magnets. He was always a breath of relief when you needed it most._ _ _ _ _

_____"Now, what's on your mind?" He asked as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He supported his head in his hands and offered you all of his attention. "I'm all ears."_ _ _ _ _

_____You sighed again. Where do you even start?_ _ _ _ _

_____"Well, I almost died my first night working, and now today I could have died as well."_ _ _ _ _

_____You didn't stop for his reaction. It was too late. The train had left the station. You just kept moving, rapidly voiding yourself of every thought that weighed you down._ _ _ _ _

"My new boss is an asshole that lured me into a _literal deathtrap_ hosted by three insane robots that are out to kill me, and that asshole boss of mine is _keeping_ me held in her robot infested deathtrap by threatening the lives of my family--you--and putting me in awful situations like the one I was in today that almost killed me. 

_____Your voice started to shake as your fears pulled you under._ _ _ _ _

"I'm really scared that I'm going to _actually_ die, or worse than that, get someone killed. I feel like I'm going to be at that stupid pizzeria forever, and I have no proof that I won't be. I'm really scared, and tired, and sad and I feel the need to _go home_ , but my home's not a safe place anymore because I know I have to go back, and I'm really scared that I'm going to go in that building one day and I won't come back out." 

Your throat released the tears that it had been holding and you couldn’t catch your breath properly as you started to hyperventilate. Panic was climbing its way up your spine and with a valiant effort, you managed to shove it back down. You _had_ to get over this. You forced your breathing to even out. 

_____“Oh. Well shit. I, um..” your dad started after a second. He held his head in his hands and he looked like he was having the same existential crisis you had when you were first pulled into this shitshow. He took a moment, staring blankly into the couch cushions as if hoping they held any answers to this gut-punch of information._ _ _ _ _

_____“I- ” He shook his head as if trying to clear the painful shock he now shared with you. You could tell that he wanted to offer you support, but the ground was just swept from under him and you can’t give help if you’re on the floor. You were right down there beside him._ _ _ _ _

_____“How do I help?” he asked, finally looking up at you. He looked just as lost as you felt. “I, uh.. Is there any way I can help? You said you can’t quit, right?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“No. I can’t leave.” you said bitterly. “Avery’s got my whole life in her freaking hands, and there’s not shit I can do about it.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“That’s your boss?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yeah. That’s her. The one and only.” Your dad resumed his hopeless stare into the couch. After a few seconds, he looked up at you apprehensively. “...How did you almost die?”_ _ _ _ _

_____You exhaled sharply, your fear giving way to anger. “She stuck me in a room with doors that I couldn’t keep closed, while the pizzeria’s murderous robots walked around the stupid building. If they got into the room I was in, they’d kill me and the doors were the only thing that would keep them out.”_ _ _ _ _

You growled. _“I couldn’t close the doors,_ dad. _I couldn’t keep the stupid fucking doors closed_. They needed power to be closed, and if I ran out of power the robots would _kill_ me.” 

You sucked in a shuddering breath and buried your face in your hands. “I ran out of power.” you said quietly. “I ran out of _fucking power!”_ you suddenly snarled. Your dad looked shocked at your outburst. 

“I ran out of _fucking power,_ and I have to do it again! Tonight! I’m gonna _die_ tonight, dad! I’m going to fucking _**die!”**_

_____You whimpered, sinking back into yourself. “I’m gonna die.” you said quietly._ _ _ _ _

"You're not going to die, Yin." your dad said, grabbing your shoulders. "You are _not_ going to die tonight. You're resourceful. You're a thinker. Use that; get creative! There's always a way out of a situation, ok? It's always there. You just have to find it." 

_____He pulled you into a hug and you felt sad. You hated to pull him into the boat with you. You didn't want that stress and fear you held to hang over your dad as well, but you found yourself feeling safe in his hold. It was minor, but it brought some relief to know that you weren't alone. You just didn't like knowing that you were burdening him with your fears because of your need for support. You felt selfish._ _ _ _ _

_____"I love you, Yin."_ _ _ _ _

You pulled in a shuddering breath. In four words, the bricks your heart held crumbled away. _Your dad still loved you._ Even after all your mistakes. Even after you willingly waltzed into a situation that put his life at stake. You put his life on the line and he still cared about you. How could you be so lucky? 

_____"I love you, too."_ _ _ _ _


	10. Chapter 10

Your shift started at midnight and you were going in prepared. After your emotional freakout when you’d first gotten home, you were left with roughly ten hours before you were due back at Freddy's, and you were not going to waste them. 

Overall, there wasn't much you could really do, but that didn't stop you. You learned the hard way what you were up against last time, and you were going to try and compensate now for what you lacked then. 

You'd already covered base one: protection. It was still an unproven method, but you put a lot of trust in your taser. It was one of the main reasons that you were capable of forcing yourself back into that building. Now knowing both what waited for you inside _and_ the fact that it was time for round two put you in a fragile state. You would need something that felt like a reliable backup for when shit inevitably hit the fan and your taser filled that slot nicely.

Another problem you had previously was not knowing the time. It wasn't a huge deal when it came to your survival, but it was certainly going to be comforting to know how long you had left to go. 

You ended up digging around in some of the older piles of your things and found a crusty old watch from your teen years. The thing was horribly beaten and somehow still held the scratched remnants of the face of an old boyband member. You ignored that and counted the find in general as a victory. The watch was not in its most ideal state, but it was still functional and that's all you could ask for. Next.

The last thing was arguably the most important gadget you needed. A screwdriver. You were still hellbent on getting into the ventilation shaft and while your twisted scrap of chair metal served you well (Thank you for your service, old friend.), it certainly wasn't the most effective tool and it was time for an upgrade.

You doubted your ability to properly conserve the power. You were too easily shaken by the atmosphere of the pizzeria at night. The flickering lights and the eerie sounds made an unnerving combination that you weren't built to handle. Not to mention the thought of the robots prowling around. You couldn’t stand to keep the doors open and it showed. Your taser was great, but you were reaching for any backup you could find, and hiding in the vents seemed like a solid addition.

You also scooped up a small penlight just in case, attaching it to your car keys. Your taser was equipped with a proper flashlight of its own, but it couldn't hurt to be overprepared. 

You were _so_ certain that you would die. Every instinct of yours backed this up, but even so, some tiny bit of you held doubt. 

There were two lines of logic to be followed here, and you had one foot on them both. One side held facts: There was solid evidence that the animatronics were capable of murder and had a streak for doing so. This was backed by the phone calls warning, the reaction of the other nightguards when they'd found you after your first night, and your mystery guide’s vaguely cautioned instructions when she showed you around. 

Unfortunately, the other side held facts contradictory to the first ones. The animatronics had left you alive and going back to the nightguard's reactions once more, that didn’t seem to happen very often. Not only had they spared you on your first night but they even went so far as to actively _save_ you and you still didn’t know what to make of that. Not to mention that Freddy actually _responded_ when you thanked him and you were still completely at a loss for how to even _begin_ to process _that. That’s not ok!_

All of this knowledge combined made for a confusing and chaotic picture that was almost as bad as some modern art. What were you supposed to do in this situation?

You tried to put it aside, but most of your time at home before your shift was spent anxiously pacing your room. Eventually, you returned to Netflix, once more trying to bury your sorrows in the depths of it. 

Not long after your conversation, your dad got a call from a friend which reminded you of his plans to go out tonight. It was still the 4th of July. 

From what you overheard, it sounded like a standard summer Dad-beque (dad barbeque) with the exception of being held at night. He and a few of his friends were gathering with their kids for a little party in someone’s backyard. They had a heated pool and a stockpile of fireworks, not to mention a crazy fancy house. Some of your dad’s friends were loaded. It was inevitably going to be a bigger event than they originally planned for. Rich people are like that. 

You weren’t generally a party person, but the event actually sounded pretty fun. You knew your dad would want you to come if you weren’t on shift tonight. _Goddamnit._

Stupid Avery and her stupid death-restaurant were steadily getting more frustrating. The little party was trivial in the grand scheme and it wouldn’t matter after you inevitably died tonight, but you took the time to revel in your bitterness. Stupid fricking _Avery._

You eventually noticed your dad typing urgently on his phone (having a flip phone, it was a laboured process and the rapid clicking of the nine buttons he had was hard to ignore) 

“Oh, It’s just Marvi.” he responded when you expressed your curiosity. “I was just letting him know that I wouldn’t be coming to his barbeque tonight.”

“What!? Why? You always hang out with Marvi on the 4th.”

He put down his phone mid-text, directing all his attention to you. “I’m not gonna go out and party while my child is fighting for their life.” he said seriously. “You’re way more important than a rack of ribs--as tempting as they might be.” he said, a teasing smile pulling at his mouth.

You gave a small breathless laugh even as guilt climbed up your spine. This is why you shouldn’t have said anything about your situation. Of all the things you hoped to happen when you shared your problems, causing your dad to cancel his plans was not one of them. 

“Dad- You don’t have to stay here all night. Go have fun! You’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”

He opened his mouth to object, but you cut back in before he could. “It’s a problem that can’t be solved, dad. Lurking in the apartment all night isn’t going to change that.”

He paused, seemingly unsure of how to respond to that. You both knew that you were right; you were fucked either way. It didn’t matter what he did. Regardless of whether he was here or with a friend, you were still going to be in that stupid ofice chair when the clock struck 12. You were going to suffer regardless, and you didn’t want to pull your dad down with you.

He looked up at you guiltily. “Are you sure? I feel like I would be abandoning you..”

"You're not abandoning me," you said, banishing that _tiny_ sliver of doubt. "Seriously, Dad. Go! It would make me feel a lot better to know that you were happy and safe."

He sat pensively for a moment, and you used the time to mentally urge him along. You really did want him out of the house. You knew he was far safer than you would be tonight, but you still didn't like the idea of leaving him alone. 

Avery still knew your address. You knew it wasn't likely, but you feared that she would hurt your dad tonight. Most logic rebutted this, arguing that it would do nothing for her and only serve to lose her a bit of leverage over you, but you couldn't help your fear. She was just too unpredictable.

If your dad was out of the house and surrounded by other people, she'd have a considerably harder time getting to him. You'd already lost your freedom. You couldn't stand to lose your father too.

He shot a longing side glance at his phone, then turned back to you, sighing heavily. "You're sure that you're sure?"

"Absolutely sure."

He gave a soft smile and pulled you into a hug. "I love you."

You released a breath as relief washed over you. "I love you, too"

He left soon after that, this time pulling you into a crushing bear hug before he walked through the door. "Be safe, Yin!" He said brightly, but his eyes were still clouded with concern and anxiety. 

You exchanged the warmest goodbyes you'd ever had. The kind when you're not sure when--or if--you'd see that person again. He then left and a small weight was lifted off of you. No matter what happened inside that pizzeria tonight, your dad would be safe.

You were relatively calm after that, but as the clock ticked closer to the magic number, your anxiety started to click back into place, eventually reaching the point when every passing minute mounted the feeling by 10%. Your difficulty with time made its unpleasant appearance again and you found yourself unable to look away from the clock--which seemed to be moving both too fast and too slow at the same time. You were counting the seconds and this was one of the few occasions that you were fully aware of the time. It was awful. By the time 11:30 rolled around, you felt like pulling out your hair. 

You didn't though. Instead, you ran a brush through it, changed into your security uniform, and pulled up your big kid panties. This was going to _suck_ , but you were going to get in there and die with the spare scraps of dignity you'd managed to gather back. Passing out due to _gas fumes_ of all things definitely hurt your numbers.

Every step you forced your body to take as you prepared yourself and left your home felt like trudging through a swamp. You wanted nothing more than to hide under your blankets. Maybe you could take advantage of your clean coffee cups and cry some more. It had quite the appeal.

Even so, you managed to get yourself in your car and you were off, driving slowly towards your grave.

-=-=-

As you pulled into the pizzeria’s parking lot, you were greeted with the same scene you’d received when you first stepped into this situation. The sky was once again dark, leaving all the attention to the brightly glowing building in the near-empty night. This time though, the fluorescent lights felt to leave a foreboding atmosphere. The light reminded you of a flame and you were the moth that was drawn to it. How many other moths had this place’s elaborate trap caught? Likely too many.

The excitement you’d first felt that night had long since fled, leaving you only with your building apprehension. It was ridiculous to think about how everything had unfolded just two days ago. It felt like so much had happened since then. 

You took the time to nitpick about your clothing and appearance, once again attempting to delay your entrance in any way you could imagine. You did all you could think of, and it was only after you’d finished retying your shoes twice that you finally put yourself out of your car. 

The air was muggy and humid, something you hadn't noticed when you left your apartment, mind too busy running overdrive to fully process your surroundings. Now though, you were hyper-alert of everything around you, likely the remnants of some buried human survival instinct.

It made you anxious. 

In the front windows of the pizzeria was a moving silhouette and you noted that it was your mystery guide again. You wondered why she was here this late with the pizzeria being closed that day. 

She was in the entrance lobby, sweeping this time, but that didn’t change the uncomfortable sense of Deja Vu that was ghosting over you. Everything obviously felt familiar because you were in the same scene as before, but it still felt odd. Like a dream. A nightmare. 

_I wish_..you thought. Wouldn’t that be great? For this all to be a terrible nightmare? It would obviously be the worst dream of your life, but it would be _so_ much better than a reality. You knew it wasn’t true, but you found yourself hoping regardless. Life’s full of surprises. You never know.

The door chimed as you walked inside the pizzeria and your mystery guide paused her task, looking over. When she saw you, she gave you a bright genuine smile.

“Yin! It’s good to see you!” She seemed to remember something and her voice softened. “How are you holding up?”

Your default answer of _‘I’m alright. You?’_ rose to your lips, but you held it back. You were not alright by any means and you both knew it. You shrugged wordlessly and she nodded in understanding.

A sudden thought hit you. She obviously knew about the situation when she brought you in. She knew what was going to happen when she taught you how to manage your job. She could have warned you. Had she explained the situation and told you the truth, none of this would’ve happened. It wasn’t directly her fault, but she could have stopped it and she didn't. You felt a strange sense of betrayal. 

Anger began to sweep over you, but you stopped it before it got too far. She was in the same boat as you. All of the staff here were. Just as you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do, she was likely subject to that same manipulation. You couldn’t blame her for what someone else was forcing her to do. 

Fucking _Avery_. How could one person be so evil? She must have been dropped as a baby or something. No kind of cruelty could come naturally. She must have been slippery.

“I’m sorry,” your mystery guide said as if reading your thoughts. “I know I wasn’t really honest when I showed you around. As I’m sure you’ve learned by now, we’re all held on a pretty tight leash. I wish I could’ve told you beforehand.” 

You sighed, expelling the last bits of your frustration. It wasn’t her fault.

“It’s alright. I get it. It seems we’re all in awful situations here.”

“You could say that again,” she said with a wry smile.

“Oh!” she said suddenly. “I don’t believe we’ve _officially_ met. I’m Meagan,” she said, offering you a hand. “Also known as the person who pretty much led you to your doom.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Making light of the situation was probably the best way to push against the horror of it all, and she seemed to know that. She’d clearly been here for a while and the tired lines of her face evidenced that. They were clearly birthed by stress and fear. If you stayed alive long enough, you were sure that you’d eventually have your own matching set.

“I’m Yin.” You said, taking her hand. She had a nigh painful handshake. “Also known as the person who willingly followed you into their doom.”

Meagan smiled and gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go. “Yeah, welcome to the club.” She sighed and checked her watch, making you subconsciously do so as well. 

“Well,” she started. “It’s a quarter ‘till midnight. Let’s go start up the generator, shall we?”

Your watch read 11:43 and you could feel the slow crescendo of panic starting to build in your mind. _You were gonna die._

The two of you were standing in the lobby and Meagan scooped up her broom from where she’d leaned it against the entrance till and led the way into the dining room. You followed her, the anxiety you’d been distracted from coming back full force. 

As expected, the animatronics were motionless on the stage and you found yourself stuck between the urge to stare at them, waiting for any actions they might take and the instinct to avoid all visual contact.

You ended up inspecting the near-black bun Meagan’s hair was tied up into with periodic side glances to the stage. 

Bonnie was staring at you again. 

His eyes were unmistakably following you across the room and every cell in your body was sent into a frenzy. _What the **fuck!!** Whyyyyyy!?!?_

A deep shudder ran through you and you quickened your pace. You would've liked to dash for the hallways, but you didn't want to be weird, so you settled for just walking slightly ahead of Meagan.

Your thought from when you were with Avery before of _'I just have to be faster than her'_ flitted back into your mind, but you ejected it just as fast as it entered. _Bad thought, Yin. Bad thought._

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to slow down. It's ok. Everything is fine-- _I'm going to die!_ \--Everything is okay. 

You hid your trembling hands in your pockets and spoke to Meagan to try and distract yourself again. You could feel Bonnie’s stare boring into your back. 

“So, why are you here this late?” you asked. “The pizzeria was closed today.”

She sighed and tapped her fingers irritably on the broom handle. “Just another one of Avery’s _requests_. She likes to have me lock up most nights, and sometimes that extends to nights when it's not even needed. I've done everything she's told me to do for all this time, and she still feels the need to hold her power over me. She's such a _bitch_."

You nodded mutely in agreement. You couldn't have said it better yourself. 

The two of you crossed the dining room without further incident, and one short walk down a hallway later, you were outside of the Parts and Service room. 

When she opened the door and flicked on the lights, you half expected Freddy to be sitting on the table. He obviously wasn't there as he was on stage, but fortunately, the bare endoskeleton you'd seen on your first night was back to take up the space. What a relief. You would hate to see the table so empty. 

The machine was slumped over and clearly powered down, but that did very little to ease your fears. You thought Freddy was “powered down” too. it wasn’t facing the door which was considerably better than the alternative and you embraced this, lingering in the doorway as Meagan stepped into the room. You weren’t going to enter that room again if you didn’t have to.

Meagan glanced at you curiously when you didn’t follow her in but didn’t comment on it. Instead, she whistled as she looked around the recently dusted room, clearly impressed.

“Wow!” she looked over at you again, eyes wide with surprise. “Did you do this? Wait-wait,” She interrupted herself, shaking her head. “Let me guess- this was a _request_ of Avery’s?”

“Yep.” you said shortly. “She had me come in at 8 o’clock this morning to deal with this mess. Fortunately, she left Freddy in here with me so I wasn’t lonely.”

Meagan cringed. “Yikes.” She sighed as she made her way to the generator in the corner. She started fiddling with the gas canisters and the fuel tank. “But at least you made it out unscathed, yeah?”

You flushed with embarrassment, choosing to omit that you had _not_ in fact made it out unscathed. Passing out to gas fumes because you’d _forgotten_ about them was not a good booster for your dignity stats. Besides, how would you explain how you left the situation alive? You didn’t know how she would react to the story, so you kept it to yourself. 

She worked with the generator in silence and her efforts were made evident when the overhead lights began to flicker. Your breath caught in your throat and you were all too aware of your accelerating pulse. It had begun _already._ There was no way you were going to make it through the night, especially if you allowed yourself to panic like this. You had to calm down if you wished for any false hope for survival.

You forced yourself to take a fresh gulp of air, attempting to fight the sudden constriction of your collar around your neck. Surprisingly, the buzzing and rumbling of the generator didn’t panic you and you clung to that, burying the clicking and grinding building in your mind within the static noise it created. _Everything is fine._

Meagan didn’t seem to notice your reaction to the change and you were grateful for that. You stepped out of her way as she left the Parts and Storage room, closing the door behind her. You were careful to keep your budding terror off of your face. You could not make your panic this obvious right now. That was to be reserved for the privacy of the office, where you could freak out and cry all that you wanted. 

You walked as slowly as possible on your way to the office, even pausing to retie your shoes _again_ to stall. Meagan seemed to understand what you were doing and gave into it, waiting patiently as you double knotted your laces. 

As the seconds wore on though, you could see _her_ anxiety beginning to rise and you knew that it was the steady ticking of her watch that made her nervous. It was almost five minutes to midnight.

You both finally ended up outside the office‘s left door and you peered into the room apprehensively. You could only delay the inevitable for so long. 

You stepped into the office.


	11. Chapter 11

The second you were in the room, Meagan bid you farewell with a breathless “Good luck!” before retreating swiftly down the hallway, her tall form quickly lost to you in the flickering lights. You wanted desperately to go with her. 

Instead, you forced yourself to look away, turning back to the setting you were sentenced to. The office. 

You peered around the room cautiously, looking for anything that might be out of place. The room was around the size of a walk-in closet, so there wasn’t much space for anything unsavoury to be lurking, but your paranoia kicked into high gear as soon as you stepped on the premises and you were powerless against it. Needless to say, it was going to be a long night.

You somehow managed to stuff all of your panic in a jar and screw a lid on it. You needed to use all the coherent thought this allowed you before the container inevitably burst. You forced a deep breath and tried to think logically. It was best to take advantage of the five minutes you had before midnight. You had a feeling that panic jar of yours wouldn’t make it past the chime leading the beginning of your shift. 

Once you had properly entered the room, everything outside of it was shrouded in darkness. You were once again at the mercy of pitch-black hallways and unreliable flickering lights. You knew part of your problem last time was checking the lights too much and once again your taser had come to the rescue. 

A short experiment proved that its builtin flashlight was enough to illuminate the hallways, meaning that you wouldn’t need to use the ones powered by the generator. You were like a Power Ranger, but you saved lives with actual _power_ and not dramatic poses.

You had compiled a short list of things that needed to be done throughout the night: 

1\. Check Cameras

2\. Check Lights

3\. Close Doors

They seemed simple enough in concept, but fear and stress made them hell. Above all of those though was your goal to open the vent. Your #1 priority over any/everything else was to use your handy dandy ~~notebook~~ screwdriver to remove the grate from the vent so that if things came down to it, you could crawl in there to hide. 

You paced the room for a few seconds, giving in to your anxious habits while you tried to further assess your situation. You would need to have both doors closed while you worked on the vent. You _could_ take the tablet under the desk with you so you could check it while you worked, but that still left you vulnerable. You couldn’t check the doors from under your table which made it all too easy for a robot to sneak into your little sanctuary. You would _have_ to keep both doors closed and that was the most efficient method to drain power. 

You really didn’t like the thought of consciously wasting your power, but you figured it was for the greater good. Besides, once you got the vent open, the power levels wouldn’t really matter. If it came down to it, you could stay in the ventilation shaft the entire night. You highly doubted the machine’s ability to follow in there. The grate was barely large enough for you to fit, and you were _significantly_ smaller than the robots. You were quite sure that you would be safe in there. 

You caught a flash of colour in the corner of your eye and you turned. It was the Creepy Cupcake. It was on the back corner of the desk, staring you down with its weird blinking eyes. You smiled. It was definitely still unnerving, but after spending hours staring at it in a suffocatingly dark room, you had adjusted. It somehow began to provide a sense of safety. 

You decided to name it Carl. Carl could probably see into your soul and steal it if he felt the urge, but we all have our quirks. You turned him around regardless. You were already on edge and you didn’t need to add the feeling of being watched to your panic soup. Your jar could only take so much.

You were startled by the chime of midnight and just as you thought, that fragile jar of yours immediately burst, panic crashing out in a violent wave and drowning you. Despite all your efforts not to, your pulse skyrocketed. You tried to force yourself to take deep breaths because you knew a panic attack lurked just around the corner. _Not helpful. Logic now, panic later._

Your pride scolded you for your visceral reaction, but your cowardice began to consume even that. Being in the same place that built your nightmares and flashbacks _and_ knowing that you were stuck here for more practically crushed you.

You refused to cave to your fear. You scooped up the security tablet and sifted through the cameras quickly, still pacing anxiously around your chair. (This one looked even more perilous than the last.) All of the animatronics were still in place but you knew it wouldn’t stay that way for very long.

You startled violently when the phone rang, nearly dropping the tablet. It beeped twice and played back another recorded message. You picked out a new set of your favourite quotes from the voice’s rambling speech. He issued two warnings:

_“Check on the curtain in Pirate’s Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time.”_

And

 _“Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses.”_

The voice also tried to assure you that you weren’t in any danger and everything was under control, and while that was the biggest pile of bullshit you’d ever seen, you tried to cling to that idea to help provide you with a sliver of hope. 

Of course, that hope was promptly blasted into space because he said _they get worse!?_ What the fuck do you mean _they’re more active!?_ You didn’t even make it on your first night, and now you had to try again but they’re _“more active!!”_ Not to mention this Pirate’s Cove bullshit! There’s another animatronic too!? How the hell were you supposed to do this!?

Static clouded your mind and you felt like you had a thick pane of glass between you and the world. Nothing felt real. You were already in a shit mindset when you walked in, but being told that tonight would be even worse than the last one--the one that caused you literal fucking _trauma..._

Tried as you might, you were powerless when tears welled in your eyes and your collar suddenly constricted around your throat. You gasped for air, pulling desperately at your shirt. Machinery whirred and clicked in your head and you heaved a helpless sob. _It was over. Your life was over._

Your knees threatened to give way and you leaned against the wall for support. Your heart pounded like a drum and you had just enough clarity to curse your cowardice. You could _not_ do this right now. You desperately pushed against your fear and tried to pull in logic as a replacement. _You had a plan. You could get through this because you had a plan._

If you wanted to even _try_ to survive, you had to keep a level head. There was a fierce war that took place in your mind and eventually, logic clawed and fought its way to the top. You took in deep shuddering breaths and moved, slamming both doors shut and wiping at your tear-streaked face. You forcefully shoved your thoughts aside and clicked through the cameras.

The three main animatronics hadn’t moved from the stage, staring blankly ahead like the creepy motherfuckers they were. Good.

You resumed clicking through the cameras, stopping to check out this Pirate’s Cove bullshit. There was a large star-patterned purple curtain pulled shut in the corner of a room. In front of the display was an _‘Out of Order’_ sign. You didn’t know what you should have been looking for, but you reasoned that it didn’t matter as both of your doors were shut.

You wanted to curse, so you did. You resumed pacing the small room and cursed Avery in every which way you could manage. You cursed her, her evil smile, her shithole restaurant, and whoever had such butterfingers when that _demon_ was a baby. Goddamnit. You hoped she suffered when she returned to hell.

You took in a last deep breath, carefully packing all of your negative thoughts and feelings into their own little Pandora’s Box. You labelled it _‘do not touch’_ and made plans to hide it in your basement. Your apartment didn’t have a basement... 

What you _did_ have though, was your trusty screwdriver and you dug around in your messenger bag until you found it. The tool was a disgusting shade of green, flat at the top, and after crawling under the desk, you found that it was also a perfect fit for the screws in the vent. Awesome.

You wasted no time and immediately started on the three screws you’d hadn’t gotten to last time. You tried not to think about last time. Especially since you were now under that same desk... The one you were pulled from in the pitch black... The one where you’d first heard that awful grinding of machinery… The one--

You quickly derailed that train of thought. Panic is not on the set schedule right now. That’s reserved for the morning. If you lived long enough to see it…

You worked quickly, and in a matter of minutes, removed two more of the four screws holding the vent steady. You were halfway through the last one when the feeling of being watched prickled over the back of your neck. 

You turned to find an animatronic bear costume slumped over in the corner of the room. Its dim yellow fur was horribly matted and caked in filth and its jaw hung completely agape. Two small pinpricks of white stared at you through its otherwise pitch and empty eyes...

_NOPE!! NOPE!! NOPE!!_

You had the _barest_ second to question how it had gotten in with the doors closed before you squawked and hit your head on the desk so hard that you saw stars. Your vision doubled and you swayed for a second, brain swimming. You distantly heard what could’ve been a chuckle and if you had the mind to, you would’ve been embarrassed.

Instead, you forced your dazed mind into action and scrambled from under the desk, punching the right door button and making a break for the hallway; the only solution you could find to this awful situation you’d once _again_ been thrown into.

Your escape didn’t get far. You bolted for the hallway but immediately ran face-first into _something._ You didn't have time to try and process what it was because you were falling back on your ass.

You looked up and found yourself in the massive shadow of Freddy _-fucking-_ Fazbear, who was apparently just standing outside your door, and he was looking down at you _and oh my fucking god!!_

_** NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! ** _

You scrambled to your feet again and made for the other door. The golden bear was gone from the corner and that was great, but suddenly not important because when you tried to hit the door button, your hand was blocked by another hand and it was huge and brown and _oh my god its Freddy’s hand how did he get over here so fast oh my god!!!!!_

That door blocked, you pivoted for the other, still open door, but it suddenly _wasn’t_ open because Freddy just closed it and _oh my fucking god!!!!_

You were now cornered in a small room between a giant murderous animatronic and a poorly placed desk and **_oh my fucking god!!!_**

You had no idea what to do. You had _no fricking idea._ Panic had long since taken over you and didn’t help that your head was still spinning from when you’d hit it. Your breath was coming too fast and tears welled in your eyes. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!_

“Calm down.” Freddy said, and _boy_ were you not expecting that. You panicked and did anything but, hands wildly fumbling across the desk behind you for your taser. You grabbed it and held it like it was the most powerful sword known to mankind. Your hands were shaking like never before and you couldn’t get your uncooperative fingers to switch off the safety. 

In one step, Freddy was deep within your personal space bubble, leaning down so that his face was less than a foot from yours. You shrunk away with a whimper and he plucked your taser from your trembling hands and effortlessly crushed it in his own and _oh my god no!!_ This sent you further into your frenzy, and you fumbled behind to the desk again to find anything else that you could use defensively.

You didn’t get far. Freddy took _one_ finger and pressed it into the bottom of your throat. The pressure was light, but the threat was obvious. His eyes were ice, freezing you in place. _“Calm down.”_

Your panic-fueled scramble came to a forceful end with a strangled squeak, but you were still trying pointlessly to back up further. Unless you suddenly gained the ability to phase through solid objects, you weren't going anywhere. 

After a short piercing stare that by no means eased your fears, Freddy slowly withdrew to full height. That was great because you now had enough room to breathe, but also not great because having eight feet of giant killer robot looming over you was still more than unpleasant.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said. Some tiny, delirious part of your soul gave a manic laugh while the rest of you tried to keep from falling apart.

“To be base,” Freddy said, “I’m leaving this restaurant, and you’re going to help me.”

Every bone in your body was trembling. “What?” you squeaked.

“I’m _leaving,”_ he repeated, as if you were dull. “And I need your body to do it.”

 _“...What!?”_ You squeaked again, somehow shrinking further into yourself. You couldn’t think properly, your entire body in panic-mode. Your mind was not in a place to analyse and decode speech, and it showed. 

Freddy rolled his eyes, seemingly annoyed that you didn’t understand the meaning behind his two incredibly vague statements.

“I need to use your _soul.”_ he said. “I can’t exist without a host, and I’ve spent _much_ too long in this one. Compatible souls are hard to come by, and I’ve spent years waiting for one. I’m not staying here any longer.”

No part of you understood what he was saying. Was Freddy-- _a fucking robot bear_ \--going to try to _possess_ you?? You had to be wrong. Absolutely none of this situation made any sense. Maybe you were hallucinating. You really wanted to go back to your nightmare theory. 

“...I-I don’t understand,” you said timidly. “What are you wanting to do?”

 _“Honestly.”_ Freddy said, clearly exasperated. “You’re really quite dense, aren’t you?” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at you with obvious disdain. 

You were almost surprised by just how _rude_ he was. You supposed you shouldn’t have expected a literal murderer to be polite and kind. You’d met some shitty people in your life, but if it were a competition, Freddy would’ve put them all to shame. That was your first thought, and it was immediately followed by a much more important one: _What the fuck!!_

What the hell was going on? This situation was absolutely ridiculous. You almost didn’t believe it. You were once again at a loss for what to do. You _really_ didn’t want to be possessed(?) by what you could only assume was a ghost, and you had no idea of how to derail this train before it crashed.

“A-Are you gonna-” you stuttered, voice hardly more than a whisper. Everything was happening too fast and you couldn’t wrap your mind around it. You still had little idea of what he was asking to do. _How do you stop this?_ “I, um... W-what if I said no?”

Freddy was silent, eyes hard.

_Oh._

It wasn’t a question.

You were in yet _another_ helpless situation. _This couldn’t be real. This could not be happening._ If only you had known what horrible path you would be led down when you’d taken this job.

“Heh. I, um,” you started nervously. You were still quite unsure of what was about to happen. Your fear was eating you alive. “Is it going to... Hurt?” you asked. “I just, uh, what does this mean for me? W-What’s going to _happen_ to me?”

Freddy grinned. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

He closed his eyes and a few seconds later there was a small flash of light. You saw no more as you fell unconscious.


	12. Chapter 12

The first thing you knew was the dull pounding from the back of your head. Then came the blinding dark. Everything was black around you, and it was only when you saw the smallest prick of light that you were sure your eyes were open. 

Your brain twirled and spun in your head and that was likely why you held an odd sense of calm; you were too dazed to be panicked. The dim light you’d seen was several feet away and after a second you realized that the soft glow belonged to Carl the Creepy Cupcake. 

So you were still in the office. The power had obviously long since gone out, explaining the pitch abyss you lay in. You painstakingly rose to a sitting position and reached behind your head, wincing when your fingertips grazed over a painfully raised bump. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell.

Maybe that was why it took you so long to register the heavy presence of another person.

You froze and your strange calm stood by a cliff, threatening to jump off. You were motionless for a few seconds, trying to pull your dancing mind back to find a solution for this new and pressing issue. You accomplished nothing but to slowly realize that the weight was not coming from _around_ you but _in_ you. You felt full in a way you couldn’t describe.

Emotions that you didn’t understand flickered through your mind. Excitement, fear, confusion, wonder, surprise, sadness--too many to name. Above that though was just the deep sense of being overwhelmed. 

You didn’t know what to do with the ball of chaos in the back of your mind, so you didn’t bother to try. You had to get out of this godforsaken pizzeria before you dealt with anything else. You fumbled blindly for your keys and for the first time in the last two days, you felt a positive emotion in regards to Past-Yin. 

Past-Yin had thought to attach a small penlight to your keys and you were endlessly grateful for the _one_ helpful thing they’d done recently. It was probably too much to hope for this trend to continue. You’d never forgive Past-Yin for getting you into this situation to begin with.

The soft clinking of your keys together suddenly seemed thunderous in the still silence of the building. It took you only a couple seconds to flip through the few keys you had until you found the small cylinder that was your attached penlight. 

Still sitting, you clicked it on and a soft beam of light cast a glow to the room around you. Just as you suspected, you were still in the office. 

You panned the light in front of you and it caught two thick brown poles(?) And it took you a few seconds to realize they were legs. Stiff plastic legs covered in artificial brown fur and _oh no please don't be‐ **Fuck!**_

You didn't even have to get your light halfway up his body to know that Freddy stood over you. Your odd sense of calm did a spectacular high-dive off of the cliff it stood by, leaving you with your usual manic fear.

You hurridly launched to your feet and away from the robotic bear, just managing to catch yourself before you hit the wall of the small office. You were fully prepared to run for the hallways, but Freddy didn’t seem to react to your presence. In fact, he didn’t react to anything at _all,_ standing completely frozen, holding the wall with a blank and vacant stare.

You paused, heart still pounding in your chest. He wasn’t moving. You weren’t complaining about this, but it confused you. Freddy looked to be _empty_ in a way, seemingly having returned to a hollow and lifeless robot. Either he powered down somehow, or--what was more likely--whatever had possessed(?) him was gone. 

Based off of his extremely vague “explanation,” he intended to possess _you._ You didn’t feel possessed though; as far as you were aware, you still had complete control of your mind and body. Maybe he failed? You didn’t know what happened to Freddy’s spirit, and you didn’t care to know. That did not fall into the category of _“Yin’s Problems.”_ It was a long and extensive list, but it did not cover the well being of killer robots.

What it _did_ cover though, was your own well being. You had to get out of this pizzeria; you weren’t going to spend another long and empty night staring into the darkness. Once again, you had the odd feeling that the other robots wouldn’t bother you. That thought didn’t do much to quell your anxiety though. This place was too unpredictable. 

You eyed the robot once more as you carefully gathered your things. Your strange calm had somehow managed to climb back up the cliff and now clung precariously to its unstable edge. It was time to go. 

You roved your thin beam of light thoroughly down the abyss of the hallway before you stepped into it, doing your best to catch anything that might have been an important detail. This was already risky, and you didn’t intend on taking any more chances. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about your taser. Or rather the loss of it. He just _crushed_ it! He just took it from you and squeezed it, and it was _gone!_

It was horrible to think about all the faith and trust you put into that little device and looking back now, knowing that it was absolutely useless _hurt_. That taser had given you a sense of confidence and now knowing just how vulnerable and helpless you were the whole time--while not surprising--felt like a huge blow. How had you kept your life this long?

Once fully in the halls, you returned to the anxiously cautious pace you maintained while in search of Avery’s office, constantly glancing over your shoulder with growing paranoia. Every step that brought you away from the office took your heartbeat further and further into chaos and your hand ached for the comforting weight of your taser.

You crept around as silently as possible until you rounded the corner to the dining room. The space was just as ominous as it always seemed, but now even more so as it was only your small penlight that lit the room. You panned the light around and your already frenzied heartbeat shot into overdrive as you realized that the stage was completely empty. 

All three animatronics were gone and it was only Freddy’s location that you were sure of. Both Bonnie and Chica were missing and unaccounted for. They were loose in the building and you had no clue as to where they might have been. 

A cold sweat prickled over your skin, and you sprinted across the dining room without another thought, trusting the fact that it was only the lobby on the other side. That room was too small for an eight-foot animatronic to be hiding unseen.

Your heart pounded in your throat and you were leaning heavily on your strange calm. The ball of overwhelmed chaos in the back of your mind still boiled and churned. It was just distracting enough for you to keep any other unsavoury thoughts at bay. 

You managed to get out of the building and across the parking lot with little trouble; mental or otherwise.

-=-=-

It took a lot of effort to keep from speeding on your drive home. The turmoil of emotions in the back of your mind eventually calmed, settling into something like excitement. 

You didn't bother to try and understand this new split in the emotions you felt, chalking it up to your steadily maturing trauma. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were slipping into a new mental illness. Maybe you were beginning to develop a Dissociative Identity Disorder. Either that or you really _were_ possessed in some way. You didn’t want to think about it.

Every memory that you created in the office over the last few hours was certainly going to haunt you, but you chose not to believe that. Those memories were all going into the same Pandora’s Box you created for your emotions during the beginning of the night. As far as you were concerned, none of that even happened. You were just going home after a regular nightshift at a regular job. 

Yep. That’s what was happening. Everything was fine.

You focused on your surroundings to avoid the building threat of grinding gears in the corners of your mind, taking in the pattern of the shifting street lights passing through your car as you drove. You listened to the pop song playing quietly through your radio and eventually breathed in the dense and muggy air as you pulled into your parking spot, stepping out of your car and into the lot of your apartment.

The night sky was clouded over and slowly releasing the humid rain it had been holding. The current light drizzle was sure to develop into a full rainstorm at any moment. You unlocked and stepped through the door to your flat, unsurprised when Pixie instantly smacked face-first into your shins. 

Despite your attempts to ground yourself in reality, that glass window between you and the world was gradually sliding shut and you hardly registered the impact. Your usual relief when arriving home was dimmed and you absentmindedly stepped over Pixie in lieu of your regular greeting.

He didn't seem to take any offence or, still yapping excitedly in your shadow as you crossed through the main area and into your bedroom. 

"Yin?"

You had just stepped through your bedroom doorway when you processed the low voice behind you. Every nerve in your body was instantly set alight and you startled violently, unable to stop a shrill scream from escaping your throat.

You whipped around in a sudden panic and after a few tense seconds, realized that it was only your dad that stood before you. His hands were up in surrender and while his eyes were heavy with concern, a teasing grin tugged at his mouth.

"Woah there, _Jumpy-Mc Jumperson._ It's only me." He chuckled. "I'm not _that_ scary, am I? I guess I should've shaved this morning."

You released what could have been a relieved sigh, but your quivering heart took longer to settle. Panic and adrenaline still pulsed through your veins. 

You watched as his teasing mannerisms gradually melted away and you were suddenly looking into the anxious and tired eyes of a distressed father. There was a clashing mix of fear and relief painted across his face and the air was heavy with unspoken words. 

He saw your fear and exhaustion just as easily as you saw his, and you both knew that now wasn't the time to broach the inevitable conversation. There was a lot to be said and neither of you were in the place to handle it.

You and your father exchanged the same understanding gaze and wordlessly agreed to work through the aftermath of the recent events in the morning.


End file.
